It Could Be Worse 4th Season
by Sulia Serafine
Summary: The final part of the four year-old series. Complete
1. After You

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 1: After You**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13 for bad moods and bad jokes…

**Author's note**: Well! It's good to be back! And yet, it is a bittersweet moment. This is for sure the last season of ICBW. It's been an awesome ride, but as I move on to adulthood (i.e. washing my own laundry and living without the 'rents) I must also move on to different things, creatively. I've already started making drafts and outlines for fiction projects that maybe one will be published. Who knows? I'll try short story, poetry, screen plays… I'm a dabbler. Dabble, dabble. Enjoy the show, folks.

By the time she reached Commissioner Wyldon's office, Keladry had been on a train for a ridiculous amount of time due to freight train accidents on the tracks ahead of them. She could have gone by bus, but she had no desire to be on a bus again. The trip to Irontown earlier that year had been more than enough. A plane was no better. She'd be happy if she never got onto another plane in her life, seeing as it would forever after remind her of that painfully silent trip across the ocean.

Keladry slumped in the chair, rubbing her eyes. Years of practiced stoicism and perfect posture amounted to nothing. The constant jostle of the train hadn't let her sleep. Instead, she remained in a state in which she was not sure she was even awake. Eyelids drooping, hair matted on one side from hours of leaning against a window, Keladry felt as if she were floating. An out-of-body experience, she though briefly, wondering how she could look down at her feet on the floor, but not _feel_ them anywhere near the floor.

After a time, Wyldon entered his office, hands clasped behind his back. The commissioner had already received the same synopsis that had been given to Flyndon, but he knew there was more than meets the eye. Besides, Keladry had always been an honest, dutiful officer. He'd rarely had complaints about her the entire time he had known the young woman. It was therefore more… vexing… to see her now, so disoriented and unlike herself.

"Sir," she made to stand and salute.

"At ease, Mindelan."

Keladry gratefully collapsed back into the chair. Habit made a comeback, though, and she sat up a little straighter. However, her eyes continued to appear vacant.

Wyldon frowned. "I know the basics, officer. I didn't need you to come all the way here to tell me what everyone else knows," he said. He moved behind his desk and sat down. "So tell me. What _really_ happened?"

Keladry gazed down at her lap. "I'm not sure if I—"

"And don't worry about anyone else. If you, of all sensible people, have a bizarre story to tell, I won't report it to Internal Affairs." He gave her a confident, assuring smile. "I've watched you grow up from a wet-behind-the-ears rookie to an indispensable member of the DJPF. I trust what you have to say." He paused. "And if need be, _I_ will deal with covering up the scandals. No need to give the public yet another reason to lose faith in the federal government."

She was slightly impressed of his assessment of the situation and the accompanying bravery to defend it. Keladry coughed into her hand. The truth had to come out sooner or later. At least the commissioner was on her side.

"We ran into a benevolent, indigenous people. Then we ran into a," Keladry paused to find the right words, but failed, "not-so-benevolent people. A civilian was seriously injured… Another k… killed," she finished after some difficulty. "And an officer—" she stopped. If there ever was a time for her to hand in_ his _resignation for him, now was it. "Two of our officers have volunteered to stay behind to do damage control."

"Two?"

She gulped. Officially, only one. But she might as well say two. "Yes, two."

Wyldon tapped his chin. "And so you're saying that we really have two of our men covering up the discovery of a culture in that icy wasteland. Well, Ms. Sarrasri already knows, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind twisting the details. Her job is on the line, too." He smirked. "A group of gold-diggers, having been driven out of the Roof of the World by our expeditionary forces, set up shop in the forbidden Eastern Yamani mountains."

"Sir?" Keladry forced her eyes to stay open and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"We can't tell all of Mithros that there are indigenous people in those mountains. Hundreds of foolhardy scientists and anthropologists would fall off mountains and get themselves killed trying to find the place."

"The hostages and the rescue team have not been under our supervision upon return. What if they've already leaked information?"

"Well, I suppose we'll have to persuade them to change their stories, won't we?"

Keladry did not know how to react. The search team had not seen much, but the pilots of Inness' research team had seen plenty. She could trust Inness to keep his mouth shut—she doubted he would have talked to _anyone_, even their mother, about what had happened. But what about the rest?

Wyldon sighed. "I will approach the subject with the DJPF Board of Directors. We need to get this report straight—you hear me, Mindelan? Because there's a chance someone has already heard something. And they will ask questions. The current administration just barely recovered from the Immortals scandal."

"I take it President Conté will have more than enough on his plate during his re-election campaign?" Keladry said, a little caustic in voice.

Their private conference eventually undid Keladry's initial report to Flyndon and replaced it with something closer to the truth. The damage control in Mithros was ten times as more taxing psychologically than it must have been back in Enishijirou. By the end, Keladry wondered if Wyldon would really be able to cover up everything.

She felt guilty. More, she felt responsible. The lying had not disappeared, only changed form. How could she let herself imagine things would be so easy?

The final report and witness hushing lasted three days. Keladry stayed in the Headquarter dorms again, talking with former hostages via COMscreen. Luckily, every last one of them had not said a word. On the plane ride home, they had discussed it among themselves and determined that they would all be locked up in an insane asylum if they even remotely tried to explain the "magic" they had seen. For their cowardice and self-denial, Keladry was eternally grateful.

She slept for the rest of her time in the city. She barely strayed from her room, so she did not visit any of her old friends. The majority of them had transferred anyway. The only one she had seen during her brief trips to Commissioner Wyldon's office had been Hakuin Seastone, who sported a black eye courtesy his fellow trainer, Eda Bell. She'd greeted him rather indifferently. He took no offense, mistaking her behavior as that of her pre-mistaken-fugitive days, but she felt a little bad after he had gone.

No, she for the most part stayed in her assigned room. Keladry simply didn't have the energy. There was no dull ache, annoyance, irritation, anger, or melancholy. None of that. There was just an enormous amount of fatigue.

_I'm tired of everything_, she realized. _I've given all of myself to everyone because I've never done it before and I didn't know any better. Now there's nothing left._

She recalled how Cleon had once spoken to her about respecting how she kept her distance. There wasn't any distance to speak of any longer, she noted. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Her casual uniform lay rumpled on the floor. She stared at the wide baby blue stripe and found herself disgusted with the color. There was only one type of blue that pleased her anymore.

"This is all your fault," she whispered. But she wasn't mad. Just empty.

"So how's the old man?" Neal asked.

"Huh?"

"Wyldon. You saw him, right? I was afraid they were going to send you to talk to some other pompous prick instead of good ol' Wyldon." He snapped his fingers. "Darn it! I should have asked my dad to come see you. He wanted to send up some pineapple upside-down cake that my aunt made. He doesn't care for it much, you see, so—"

"That's nice," Keladry yawned. Luckily, Neal caught the hint and shut up. She slept in the car the rest of the way back to their apartments. The movement and sound of the car had a large effect on Keladry's ability to relax. Perhaps it was simply because Neal was there with her. No matter the reason, she slept like the dead until they parked in the garage.

Neal carried her duffel bag for her with his uninjured arm. She did not protest. Keladry knew she looked exhausted and a good friend like Neal wouldn't stand to see her carry anything. Against all attempts to stifle it, she yawned several more times in the elevator and in the hallway of their floor.

He even entered her password for her, leading the way into her own apartment. Keladry didn't even make it as far as the bedroom before dropping onto the couch and kicking her shoes off. Neal chuckled to himself and went into her bedroom. He brought back her bed comforter and draped it over her prone body.

"Hey, I'll come back later tonight. We'll meet up with some other officers for drinks at the pool hall. Okay?"

"Whatever," she mumbled, her eyes closed and her breathing already slowed.

The attentive young man leaned down and brushed a brotherly kiss against her hair before retreating.

Keladry would have slept for twenty-four hours straight if not for the loud intercom buzzing that woke her up. She groaned as she sat up, brushing her hair out of her face. She shuffled to the door, wondering who would interrupt her slumber at—night was it? The sky outside the window was black. The lights of the surrounding buildings were already on. She'd slept for at least five hours, then.

"Hello?"

"It's me. Open up."

The door slid open and Neal stepped inside. He rolled his eyes when he saw his disheveled friend. He was dressed in a green shirt and a pair of dark gray slacks. His hair was actually combed back neatly and he smelled like aftershave. "I can't believe you. Come on, into the shower with you."

He started pushing her gently through her bedroom and into the bathroom.

"What's the big deal?" she complained.

"We're going out tonight. That's what. Now go clean up. I'll pick out something for you to wear."

She snorted. "Out? So where are we going again, Roald and Lalasa's?"

"Actually, they're out having dinner with Ms. Sarrasri. Otherwise, we would have gone to see them. By the way, did you know Lalasa was pregnant?"

On the other side of the bathroom door, Keladry frowned. She started running the shower and stripping off her clothes. "No. Really? How long?"

"Just over a couple of months. Roald's been on Cloud Nine ever since."

"I bet," Keladry replied. "Hey, Neal, would you mind…?"

He backed away from the door. "No problem. I'll get your stuff unpacked since you obviously haven't touched it since you got home."

The idea of Neal going through Keladry's clothing did not bother her in the slightest. With someone else, maybe, but Neal was her brother in nearly all respects except name and DNA. She didn't feel embarrassed at him going through any of her things. With that burden off her mind, she stepped into the shower and was immediately soothed by the hot water running down her body. Days of stress and weariness wore away until there was a perfect feeling of contentment. She leaned against her shower wall and closed her eyes.

When she was finished, she wrapped a robe around her body and peered out her bathroom door. Her bedroom was empty. "Neal?"

"In the kitchen polishing off the last of your food! Your clothes are on the bed."

_Figures_. She tentatively exited her bathroom and surveyed the outfit placed on her bed. There was a pair of jeans and a pinstriped shirt whose sleeves came down to her elbows. Shoes were placed at the foot of the bed, a pair of plain white tennis shoes that had gone nearly unworn since Lalasa had coerced her into buying them.

She poked her head out from the bedroom and glared at the older man currently munching on an apple from her refrigerator. "Those jeans don't fit me too well. Is there something else?"

He shook his head. "No, that's good. Tight will be good."

"No, it won't! You know my policy."

"Yeah. Comfortable and completely unattractive," he retorted. "Come on, just put it on and let's go. I bet they're wondering what's keeping us so long down at the pool hall."

Keladry went back to her bed and began to put on her clothes. "Just whom are we meeting, anyway?" she called. "The Riders? Or some other people I don't know?"

"Oh, you know these people. Don't worry about that."

Still wondering whom he was referring to, Keladry exited her bedroom, dressed in the outfit that her best friend had selected. The jeans were a tad bit snug, but she supposed it wouldn't bother her the whole night. Neal nodded approvingly and stood at the door, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. She rolled her eyes at him and went out.

He still insisted on driving despite one of his arms being in a sling. Neal assured her that it was no great difficulty. It didn't especially hurt, just that there was a constant ache along the muscle and sinew. The doctors in Enishijirou had done an eerily good job.

Keladry discovered that she rather liked the pool hall where she had once celebrated her birthday. Even if she didn't play pool very well, she enjoyed watching. Neal was an avid player, though only of mediocre skill. He would have great success periodically, but not enough to win himself any large bets. That he only had one hand free to use disappointed him. He could only be a spectator that night.

When they entered the establishment, they immediately ran into Wolset, who invited them over to sit with him and a few men from his division. His ocean blue eyes seemed to be laughing, as they always were. Keladry realized that she liked Wolset, if only because his disposition and his cheery appearance reminded her of Cleon. She dropped the thought quickly.

Keladry recognized a few of them from the car theft ring that the DJPF had brought down, others from the SWAT team. She sat down beside Wolset, who went off on a spiel about a humorous, but dumb criminal that they had arrested earlier that day. A waitress came by and delivered two baskets of fries and a few cheeseburgers. Wolset decided that he wasn't hungry yet and offered his cheeseburger to Keladry.

She'd spent nearly the entire day traveling or sleeping, so of course she was hungry. Keladry eagerly bit into the cheeseburger. A sigh escaped her mouth, her lips curling into a slight smile as she relished the taste. She usually wasn't inclined toward burgers—being what Neal called a demi-health nut. But food was simply food at this point. She found herself reaching for the fries as well.

"Hey!" Neal exclaimed from besides her, suddenly standing up. He reached an arm behind the booth seat that they were on and shook the hand of a new arrival. Keladry was loath to put down the cheeseburger, but she did anyway and wiped her mouth and hands. She turned to see what had gotten her friend in such a happy mood.

"Nice to see you, pal!" Neal said, slapping Major Ulliver Linden on the shoulder. "Hey, Kel, look. It's Ulliver."

The SWAT team leader nodded his head politely toward Keladry. "Hey, Mindelan."

Neal snorted. "Please, call her Kel. We're all off duty here." He pointed across him. "Have a seat!"

Keladry inwardly scolded herself. She should have known that he would be there if half of his team was there. Since their last awkward encounters, they had come to an unspoken understanding that she really cared about Joren and saw Ulliver as a very nice friend. There was never animosity between them for that "rejection" but a slight tension always hung in the air whenever they were in the same room together.

Wolset grinned. "Hey, buddy! Yeah, come sit down with us. Did you see Tim by the door? He was looking for you earlier."

"Yeah, I saw him," Ulliver confirmed, taking a seat across from Keladry and Neal. He didn't look her in the eye. "Anyway, what's going on? Injured _again_, Neal?"

A sly smile spread across Neal's features, "Flyndon complains that my insurance policy premium costs the DJPF more than the amount of money you could rake in selling all the confiscated drugs in the locker."

Keladry ate a couple of fries. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was all just a conspiracy for you to meet every single nurse in Tusaine's General Hospital."

"And if it was?" Neal wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She shoved him in the shoulder, being careful not to jostle his arm sling. He turned his attention back to Ulliver. "So, Ulliver, what's going on? Job, friends, _otherwise_?" he asked, emphasizing the last word. Keladry frowned suspiciously.

"Nothing great. I've just been so busy doing all these chores and stuff. You know?" Ulliver chuckled. He scratched his head. His hair was just a tiny bit longer, but still mostly flat against his head. Keladry was bothered to know that he resembled a little more like Faleron in the soft yellow light of the pool hall.

Wolset took a sip of water. "Hey, Linden, are you coming with me to the club tonight? I heard Gina is going to be there."

"Um, not tonight, Wolsie. I feel like doing something a little less active than dancing," Ulliver replied. His eyes twinkled.

Their exchange struck a chord inside of her. Keladry took a bite of her cheeseburger to have an excuse not to talk. They reminded her of Cleon and Faleron. Good friends—one cheery, the other serious. They even resembled her two absent comrades to an extent. She had not allowed herself to think about them so much since coming home, but now that she did, Keladry was overwhelmed with a longing to see their smiling faces.

"Kel? Are you okay?"

She looked up. She swallowed her food and nodded. "Yes, fine. Sorry. Must have spaced out."

Ulliver sat back, appearing slightly suspicious. "Oh."

Neal cleared his throat. "Hey, Ulliver! You said you didn't want to do something so 'active,' right? Want to come to miniature golf with Kel and me?"

"Miniature golf? You didn't tell me we were going to do that," Keladry interjected.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Neal pleaded. He reached past her for a handful of fries. "Besides, you're not doing anything. What, were you going to go home and rearrange your sock drawer for the umpteenth time?"

She blushed furiously. "No. I could have thought to go home and… watch the game."

Honestly, she had no idea what game would be on the Holoscreen, but there had to have been at least _one_ sports activity being televised across Mithros that night. Football, basketball, hockey… she would have sat down and watched any of them, equally indifferent.

He saw through her excuses and cajoled her into saying yes to his proposal. Keladry glared at him and warned him never to make plans without her permission ever again. With hand over heart and a serious expression on his face, he pledged it very loudly to half the room.

"You get weirder and weirder each day," she remarked. ­­_Like you meant to make up for Cleon's absence._ She sighed.

"Well, Ulliver, what do you say? You in?"

"Why not?" Ulliver responded amiably. She couldn't tell if he was sincere.

After half an hour of chatting with Wolset and other off-duty officers, Keladry, Neal, and Ulliver left the pool hall and headed toward their cars. When they reached the middle of the parking lot, Neal cursed under his breath and glanced at his wrist pager.

He gave them an apologetic look. "I got a message from Dom. He's got a flat tire out by the edge of town, needs me to come pick him up with a spare."

Keladry narrowed her eyes. "Oh really?"

"That sucks," Ulliver said. He and Dom were really good friends. They very frequently hung out together in the coffee room at the DJPF station. He pointed over his shoulder at his car. "I've got a spare. I could go help him out."

Neal looked up quickly. "No, that's alright. I've got a spare. And he's practically family, anyway." He sighed and rested his free hand on Keladry's arm. "You two go ahead to the mini golf course. I'll just see you back at home."

Keladry let her eyes slowly move down from his face to his injured arm. "Are you sure you'll be able to _manage_, Neal? What with the arm and all…"

"Of course!" He shrugged. "I'm a tough guy, remember, Tough Stuff?"

"Are you sure?" Ulliver asked, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, yeah. I'm great," Neal assured them. He started to back away toward the car that he and Keladry had driven in.

His best friend glared at him. She turned to Ulliver. "Would you excuse me for just a minute?"

She followed Neal to his car and would have smacked him very hard on the back of the head if she didn't know that Ulliver was watching. Neal secretly thanked his lucky stars for this and leaned against his car door. Keladry folded her arms across her chest, smiling rather maliciously at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, a little annoyed.

Neal pointed to his pager. "Hey, my godbrother needs my help."

"Yeah, right. Dom has a hovercar, Neal! He can't _have_ a flat tire!"

"Shh! He'll hear you!" Neal warned her. He relented. "Okay, okay. Little fib on my part."

Keladry shook her head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to set me up on a date with Ulliver."

Neal pouted. "Why not?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "Why not? Neal! You…" She quieted her voice and tried not to blush. "You _know_… Joren—"

"He's gone."

It felt like betrayal. Keladry flinched and averted her gaze. Something inside her chest constricted, and she took a deep breath. "But… but it's just too _soon_ Neal. You can't possibly know how long and how much I…"

"But I do know," he whispered. Without another moment's hesitation, he drew her into a gentle embrace and ran his hand comfortingly down her back. "I know. He told me."

She pulled away from him and forced him to look her in the eye. "What?"

Neal smiled weakly. "When we were partnered up on that rescue mission, we got over our differences and really… _talked._ Seemed like something straight out of the Twilight Zone—him actually talking to me about stuff I didn't even know he was capable of feeling." He chuckled. "It was all you, Kel. All your fault."

"Then can't you see?" she pleaded. "I can't do this! Not now!"

A shadow seemed to pass over his features. He nodded once. "But you can. And you will. That's what he asked me to make sure of."

It wasn't simply betrayal. It was murder.

"…He did what?"

Neal hissed as if in pain. He ran his free hand through his wavy brown hair nervously and shrugged. "Well… to tell you the truth…"

"When did he tell you to do this?" she demanded, her voice rising a little dangerously.

"When he left."

She squinted her eyes and shook her head. "How could he? He left in the middle of the night. No one saw him leave." Her expression became crestfallen with disbelief. "You… you did? How…?"

Her friend's gaze fell on the ground. "He woke me up and asked me to drive him someplace. I can't say where. I don't even remember where. But I drove him the whole damn way there. And I saw him leave."

"Why would he ask you and not me?"

It was noose on her ceiling fan. It was a guillotine on her pillow.

Neal still refused to look her in the eye. "Look, he made me promise to make sure someone, well, _normal_ would only enter the picture. I asked how long I should wait. He said as soon as possible. I think, Kel, really—I think he didn't want you to be in pain any longer than necessary." He glanced over his shoulder at Ulliver. "You'd better go. He's been waiting."

Keladry glared at him. She couldn't even put into words all the things she was feeling. "Alright. I'll go." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "But I'm not doing this for you and I am most certainly…" she paused to take a deep breath and fight back tears, "I am most certainly not doing this for him. I'm doing this for _me_."

"If that's what you want," he whispered.

"I hate you both," she lied, but cruelly enjoyed the reaction it brought from him. She hated herself so much more at that moment for hurting him with those words, but she turned away before it was too much.

Arsenic in the wine. Swimming with the fishes with cement around her ankles.

A firing squad.

She took another deep breath and went back to Ulliver, who frowned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No! No, of course not. Come on, let's go golfing, shall we?" She smiled at him and walked around to the passenger side of the car.

And so it started. They both played a humiliating game of miniature golf, the score card looking like five year olds had been at play. But Keladry had unwittingly enjoyed herself after letting down her invisible barriers so Ulliver could talk to her like a normal person. The following weeks were only a pleasant extension of the first night after that.

At first, Ulliver was very reluctant to approach Keladry. She'd been forced to be the one asking him out. Eventually, he began to warm up to the idea that she was actually interested in him and started to relax. With Neal's nosy interference, they managed to run into each other much more frequently. Sometimes, they didn't even bother with an excuse to seek the other out.

Three weeks had passed before Keladry woke up one morning with a name upon her lips.

"Liam."

She sat up quickly and frowned. Why had she just thought of _him_? And not…

_Oh. Wait._ She pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed. She knew exactly why she had thought of her ex-boyfriend. She'd been starting to feel ridiculously giddy at times, just like she had been when she had started to date Liam. It had been naïve, her happiness, one full of so much hope and faith in the future that she had been blind to most everything else.

But was that the case here? No. Keladry knew better now. She was realistic. And that wasn't Liam's fault alone. Joren had contributed more to that experience than she ever cared to acknowledge. It was hard, sometimes. Thinking of either of them. Liam, she thought she had made her peace with. But seeing him ignore her in Enishijirou had bothered her terribly. Joren was one with whom she knew she would always feel like a piece of her had been ripped out and lost forever.

Neal was right, though. She had to move on. It frightened her, sometimes, to realize at the end of the day that she had not thought of Joren once. It scared her to see Ulliver's dark haired head and to think that Liam was standing there instead.

She was making progress, though. She was starting a healthy relationship. She was seeing a very decent, very _normal_ guy. Dom had known Ulliver for years, so she had gone to him for the secret scoop on Ulliver's history. For the most part, uneventful. Normal. Not like Liam. Not like Joren. No baggage… well, only the normal baggage everyone else carried around. Dead relatives (grandparents, usually), traumatic childhood experience concerning something or other with a baby blanket… Nothing at all like being shot by Alanna Olau Trebond or losing your parents in a burning house.

They had been more or less seeing each other for three weeks and for the first time, Keladry felt that nothing could possibly go wrong.

Keladry got up and checked her answering machine for any messages. There was only one from her sister Oranie, who had just wanted to say hi. Conal's funeral had been a couple of weeks ago. When she had spent the weekend back in Irontown, she was surrounded by dozens of weeping relatives—some she had never even met before.

Inness had gotten a little better. He still had nightmares of being in the fog back in the valley, surrounded by men fighting but not being able to see or escape them. But he had started to go back to the University, though he no longer worked in anthropology. Last she had heard, he had taken up music. He and Tavin started to play guitars together.

_At least_ some _siblings in this family got a bonding experience out of this mess._

Still clad in what she had worn to bed, Keladry went to her kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal. She sat down at the table. With her chin propped up on the heel of her hand, she recalled a funny scene from earlier that week.

_"You're kidding me. You've never made pancakes?" Ulliver asked, wide-eyed with pseudo-surprise._

_She raised one eyebrow questioningly. "You know, that look reminds me very much of Neal when he's about to do something very, very stupid."_

_The major laughed, leaning back in his chair. He scratched his forehead and shrugged. Then he sprang up from his chair and started rummaging through her cupboards. "Better you than me. Get over here. You're going to learn how to make pancakes—from scratch, might I add."_

_Keladry rolled her eyes and got up, hands on her hips as she peered over his shoulder at the stirring bowl and spoon that he had found with her pots. She frowned. "I didn't even know I owned one of those."_

_"How could you not know?" he asked, snorting._

_"Two words," Keladry explained. "Lalasa Jasson."_

_He grinned. "Hey, could you get me a couple of eggs? I'll teach you how to crack them one-handed."_

_She stared at him, a little surprised. "I had no idea."_

_Ulliver turned to glance at her. "What?"_

_"How is it that every bachelor I know has proven to me that he's a closet gourmet chef?"_

_"Closet gourmet chef?"_

_"Yeah," she said, retrieving the eggs from the refrigerator. "As in, the dirty little secrets you keep in your closets—in this case, a great love and talent for cooking."_

_"You're weird," he said, peering at her intently as if she were a completely new species._

_"Just as weird as you," she countered, feeling a little self-conscious._

_He laughed. "What can I say? Men in professional jobs spend five years ordering pizza for breakfast before deciding that they would actually like to eat what the chefs on the cooking channel make. Bachelors are big fans of the cooking channel. Seriously. We watch it when we don't have the money to _buy_ food just so we can pretend to be eating."_

_"Weird," she replied. She plopped the eggs into his waiting hands and watched as he cracked an egg into the bowl. She gave a low whistle. "Impressive. That's some technique you have there."_

_"All in the wrist." He grinned cockily at her. He placed the other egg in her hand. "Here, hold your fingers like this. Tap it firmly against the side of the bowl, move your fingers so they immediately pull the two halves of the shell away from each other—there ya go, hold them like that." He made a little dipping movement with his hand. "And do this to get all the yolk inside to fall neatly out. If you let it dribble, it's going to make a mess."_

_"I had no idea there required so much thought into cracking a single egg."_

_He guided her hand over the bowl and gave her a mockingly serious look. "Wax on, wax off."_

_The pancakes actually tasted very good. Ulliver had promised to show her his famous peanut butter and chocolate chip pancakes the next day. Those had been even better._

Keladry finished her breakfast and put the bowl in the sink. She mulled over the happy memory in her mind as she ambled toward her closet. These would be her last moments of peace before she had to head out for work. There had been a rise in gang activity that had upped the amount of DJPF on patrol. It didn't surprise her in the least. Tusaine was a large city with a lot of problems, even with the collapse of its oldest criminal organization.

She frowned when she could not find the Hyperion bands. Reaching a hand into the back corner, she gave a slight gasp when her hand closed around something she had not expected.

"What is this?"

A motorcycle helmet tumbled onto her lap. Keladry stared at it as if she had never seen it before. She had not ridden her own motorcycle since she'd returned from the Yamanis. Just looking at it made her remember. And as the memories invaded her head, she wished that she could _not_ remember.

She cradled the helmet to her body. There was no reason she shouldn't ride anymore. The vehicle was functional. It was practical. Why shouldn't she?

"I will," she said firmly, standing up.

But as she continued to dress, she could not expel the dread that had begun to weigh her chest cavity down, almost like a heart of lead. She glanced at the helmet on her bed. If she reached out, she could still feel his warm body, cased in that form fitting black and red uniform. Her thighs, pressed tight against his as her arms wrapped around his waist. She could rest her face against his back, feeling the heat of his body from his shoulder blades. The heat…

Those had always been the best of times. Whether he'd been mad at her, or overcome with depression, or even in the midst of a chase—it had felt like an elaborate scheme to have her _there_ with him, to let him give her this exhilaration. The wind in her hair always brought the feeling back. That's all it took. The wind.

She didn't touch the helmet for the rest of the morning. Blue eyes seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Keladry resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. No one was there. Her apartment was empty, save for her and her yearning thoughts.

"Damn you," she muttered.

The bullet blew off chips of concrete from the building corner. She pulled back, shaking the shock off and squeezing her gun handle. Keladry took a deep breath and risked a look around the edge, firing of three rounds in quick succession before violently yanking herself back.

"Kel!" her communication link on her wrist pager flashed red. She touched the button to signal she heard him.

"He's headed straight for you," she said, unperturbed.

"Well, keep him off!" Wolset yelled. "My hands are full with his stupid friends!"

Wolset had been assigned as one of her partners until Neal was cleared for the field again. He'd been healing just fine, but Flyndon was forcing him to serve a couple of months extra inside the station. As it was, Keladry hadn't spoken to Neal as much as she used to. Actually, she spoke to him plenty, but not about certain things—or people…namely, Joren. Thus, their friendship had become somewhat stagnant and strained.

She sprang up from the spot and sprinted behind a car. Loud gunshots echoed in her ears. Small puffs of dust rose up at her heels as she dived behind her new cover. Looking back, she let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

Keladry peered through the car's windows.

There you are, you little… 

She crawled on her belly underneath the row of trucks parked in front of the car dealership, glad for the monstrous size of the vehicles. When she stole another glance at the man she'd been pursuing, he was catching his breath behind an overturned table. The small restaurant he'd taken shelter in front of was empty, its patrons having fled at the first sign of gunfire.

_Now just stay still,_ she thought at the man. She took aim and fired.

The man ducked, the bullet just missing his shoulder. Keladry instant wished she'd had Cleon's uncanny aim. Alas, she was without such skill, and cursed as the man bolted. She observed that he was headed toward the parking garage where she knew Wolset and another officer were facing off in an old-fashioned shoot out with her suspect's buddies.

"Whether you like it or not, he's coming your way!" she shouted into her communicator.

"Gee, thanks a lot!" Wolset replied. There were more gunshot noises in the background. She hoped that he wouldn't get injured. She'd lost the company of three of her partners already and wasn't looking to get paired to another one so quickly.

Keladry ran after the suspect, hoping no civilians would show up and get caught in the crossfire. The only noise she now heard was her heavy footsteps and pounding heart. The traffic sounds of Tusaine, the million urban nuances that usually distracted her, faded away until all focus was on the man running from the law.

_Not for long._

An hour later, she leaned against the ambulance, watching the man she had been chasing being loaded onto a gurney. Wolset and another officer lay exhausted on the hood of their squad car, mumbling to each other about having to actually _work_ on a perfectly good Friday.

She shook her head ruefully, pushing off from the emergency vehicle and heading toward the two men. They had received the tougher part of the job; she wouldn't deny it. But these sorts of assignments should have been routine for the First Class officers. Wolset looked up at her accusingly when she was near enough.

"We were at a standoff with five hooligans and you're the only one whose man gets shot in the kneecaps."

"I never said I was a master marksman. And he did resist arrest by running," she replied coolly. "Besides, it was one shot in the leg. You make it sound like I tortured him."

He stared at her. Though it sounded innocuous enough, something about her tone bothered him. He experienced what felt like a wave of ice passing through his body. It was inhuman how much her attitude had changed from word to word.

Ignoring his partner's banter, he sat up. He'd never gotten to know Keladry that well. But from all the impressions he'd ever had from her, maybe this wasn't out of character after all. He was almost tempted to ask Ulliver—he seemed to be spending a lot of time together with her. No. Ulliver might misconstrue the question. Neal would offer better insight.

Why did it bother him so much?

Keladry wiped the moisture from her brow and exhaled deeply.

"Hey, would you mind filing the report? As soon as we get back to the station, I was going to wash up and meet Ulliver in the break room for a really late lunch—or early dinner," she added as an afterthought.

He agreed. "No problem. Tell Linden I said hi."

Earlier traces of her unbecoming attitude were gone, replaced by the Keladry he had met months before. Maybe he was only imagining things. While growing up, his mother had always warned him about having a hyperactive imagination. Although he had seen no evidence of that in the last few years, he kept it in mind as he continued to consider his temporary partner.

As soon as she left, Wolset rolled off the hood of the car and dived through the window. Half his weight balancing on the door of the car, he grabbed the phone. While he dialed, his partner turned on his side and knocked on the windshield.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Dom. I need Neal Queenscove's number. Now."

Keladry did regret having to shoot the suspect. But to be honest, she had not been in the mood to deal with him in the way she usually would. It felt like that day outside of Mithran United with the purse snatcher. She'd snapped.

However, she felt rather calm right then—not snapped. Her pulse had resumed its normal pace, the adrenalin long gone from her veins. It was almost as if she hadn't done anything at all that day. Keladry sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her hair, still wet from the locker room shower, strayed into her face. She irritably pushed it away. Keladry had been meaning to get a haircut for quite some time. She could almost tie it back in a ponytail if she wanted to.

"Hey," a masculine voice greeted her from behind. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"Hi. How was your day?"

Ulliver plopped into the seat across from her and immediately stretched his arms over his head. "Hostage situation on the north side, some lunatic in a gasoline station."

"Oh?"

"He had a blowtorch, too."

"Ouch," she pretended to cringe. "What a delightful combo, huh?"

He grinned. "Absolutely charming."

She knew that he was referring to their subject of conversation, but Keladry couldn't help but blush a little and turn her face away so as to hide it. The way he looked at her made her feel as if he'd been saying it about her. Maybe he had meant it that way. She couldn't tell. It still made her smile.

"How was _your_ morning?"

Keladry shrugged. "Same old, same old."

"Knowing you, that probably means you prevented the hostile takeover of a ambitious arch villain who appeared out of nowhere," he sarcastically replied. He chuckled. The young major glanced at his watch. "We don't really have time to go anywhere before someone or other calls us back to work. Do you want to just hide out in Dom's computer lab for a while?"

_Alone?_ "And where's Dom?"

"He just paged me a few minutes ago and asked if he could borrow my motorcycle. Go figure."

Had she been drinking or chewing anything, she most certainly would have choked. "M-motorcycle?"

Ulliver, to his credit, only blinked ingenuously. "Um, yeah. Wolsie's brother sold it to me after the New Year."

"What about your car?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I borrow that one from one of my guys on the team. He doesn't drive unless he has to. Lazy is as lazy does, apparently."

She digested the information very uneasily. While she had lapsed into a contemplative silence, Ulliver took it as a cue to pilfer food from the break room refrigerator. He could only find a couple of soda cans, so he quickly traveled to the next room where an on site vendor was always delivering club sandwiches and other assortments of Saran wrapped lunches to DJPF officers too busy to go out for lunch.

Arms full of drinks, salad containers, two sandwiches, and a bag of chips, he met her in the hallway. They chatted companionably as they went up the elevator. Keladry clasped her hands behind her back, mildly amused at the spectacle Ulliver had made himself out to be.

"Here, let me hold some of that before you drop it."

"No, no! I got it. If you shift any of these things, the rest will all go tumbling down—trust me."

She almost chuckled, but instead hid the impulse behind a smile. He saw her do it anyway and felt greatly rewarded. The earlier revelation about his motorcycle seemed to have passed her by more quickly than she'd anticipated. If seeing her own helmet that morning had bothered her so much, why hadn't hearing about Ulliver's motorcycle done the same?

The door to Dom's computer lab was unlocked. Luckily for them, no other computer technicians were using the small room either. Keladry briefly recalled the first time she had been inside the place, reciting her identification to Dom upon her transfer to Tusaine. He'd been very friendly to all of them. And—most surprising of all—Joren had responded with almost equal congeniality (for _his_ standards, anyway).

_Enough of that,_ she told herself.

Ulliver had set down the food on Dom's desk and was setting up the computer screen to transmit Holoscreen programming. Keladry looked around for a second chair but was slightly worried when there was none. Ulliver turned around and noticed her problem.

"You can have the chair. I was going to stretch out on the floor anyway."

"Why me? You have the chair. You're the one who almost went up in flames today."

He snorted. "Not even close. Here, you sit down in his chair and I'll just sit my big butt here by the wall."

Keladry shook her head and rebelliously did as he just suggested. Ulliver eyed her critically before picking up their food again and settling down on the floor beside her. He divided up the spoils, placing a sandwich and the salad container on her lap. Then he sighed in contentment as he stretched out his legs and crossed one ankle over another. The chair was pushed off to the side, and the two DJPF officers watched the screen of Dom's computer from the floor. They began to eat without any more argument.

Finally, she rolled her eyes and set down her soda. Keeping her eyes directed at the screen, pretending to be partially absorbed in the sitcom, she spoke.

"This is ridiculous. We're both too stubborn. One of us could have at least had the chair."

He finished chewing the bite of sandwich he had taken and swallowed. "Does my stubbornness annoy you?"

"Of course not."

"Glad to hear it." He winked at her. "I was going to pick you up and put you in the chair anyway."

Keladry's eyes widened as she turned to face him. "Wha—"

His lips on hers immediately silenced her. It was their first kiss. Warmth seemed to spread from her lips to her face… permeating her body and making the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. They'd respected each other's personal space to the point of being prudish for the last three weeks. Though she'd made it clear to him long before that she cared about Joren, she had not mentioned him once to Ulliver upon her return. The blond man's continued absence sent the message quite clearly to the major that if Joren hadn't come back after so long, he was probably not going to come back at all.

And because of this, Ulliver had probably waited. What was a proper grieving time? Keladry had never dated, so she never knew how long to wait before starting another relationship. It wasn't as if her anti-climactic break up with Liam had required a recovery period. That had been a cruel farce as far as she was concerned.

So how… how did Ulliver know she was ready? _Was_ she ready?

As if sensing her thoughts, he pulled away first, with a shy smile on his lips. Keladry was so accustomed to seeing Ulliver be sarcastically flirtatious or mildly serious that this bashful expression made her giggle. She caught herself and turned away before he could see her mirth.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied, emitting a small bubble of laughter rise up anyhow.

Ulliver let out a faux aggravated groan and put his arm around her shoulders. Keladry tensed at his sudden nearness; it caused her even more anxiety than their kiss. He didn't seem to notice, but rested his head against hers. After a few minutes, she began to relax and lean back.

"You're hair's still wet, you jerk," he jokingly told her as he lifted his head up and tried to sweep all her hair over her opposite shoulder. "See? My wet shoulder is all your fault."

Keladry rolled her eyes and elbowed him hard in the ribs, much like she would have if Neal had made the remark. Ulliver chuckled against her ear, eliciting more goosebumps to appear on her flesh. He pressed a very firm kiss to the top of her head, nearly toppling the two of them over by how much he was leaning against her. She swatted at him again, but made sure that he saw her pleased expression.

In the back of her mind, she knew that—somewhere—blue eyes were watching her. Judging her. Reminding her of all the things that she'd been through with him, all her emotional breakdowns and epiphanies, all her exaltations and sacrifices. But that was in the past, she told herself. He was gone. In body, anyway. His memory still haunted her. A ghost in her shadow. Throwing caution to the wind, Keladry defiantly snuggled closer to the man beside her.

_Leave me alone._

_If you ever loved me—_

_Go away. Because I still love you. Go away or else I won't love you anymore. _

_That's a promise._

Author: stretching like a cat well, that felt good. Writing that episode was like waking up in the morning after a long night and just… gettin the kinks out, ya know? I've decided to permanently end the other fanfic I was working on. I might take bids from Rival Schools fans to anyone who wants the plot line and make it their own. Honestly, I have to finish ICBW and start building up a original fiction portfolio to take to publishers.

Gotta think about my futures, kiddies. And unfortunately, fanfiction doesn't pay the rent.

Don't worry. That won't be for a while yet. You know how long it takes me to write these darned things. The season won't be over for a bit.

Thank you for all your support! Especially to those who've been with me since the beginning (egads… four years ago, almost…). I feel like I know you, even if we've never spoken. Seeing the same reviewer names over and over—it feel's like seeing old friends. Refreshing.

Until next time

Ja ne


	2. Into Thin Air

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 2: Into Thin Air**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke. 

**E-mail me at silverwlng@aol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13 for bad moods and bad jokes…

~~

It was not even an hour from when Wolset watched Keladry walk away from the squad car when he had found Domitan Masbolle and implored his advice.

"Well, you're really observant," Dom remarked. "You picked all that up?"

Wolset nodded.

"Talk about _Karma Police_," the Rider chuckled. When he saw Wolset's confused expression, he rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

"So, is she okay?" the younger man asked. "Ulliver's my friend, too, you know. I just wanted to know if I should warn him—"

Domitan clapped a hand on his shoulder. He offered him an assuring smile. "You've got nothing to worry about. She'll recover from whatever's dragging her down. Now, what I'm really worried about is…"

"Is?"

He exhaled deeply. "Definitely not her." He glanced toward his drawer. Inside it was an assortment of pictures, including one candid shot that he took of Joren several years earlier before the blond biker left for his first undercover mission with the late Paxton Nond. Joren had asked him once if it was meant to be a funeral portrait. Dom had replied the affirmative, but he hoped he would never have the opportunity to use it. He met his friend's gaze again. "No, as long as he's gone, she'll be fine."

Wolset leaned forward. "Who?"

Dom's eyes flashed something lethal. Wolset stepped back. 

"No one," Dom chuckled, putting on his mask in the next second and bewildering the other man. "Let me treat you to a drink tonight. I'll get Qasim out of his cave in the garage and we'll get plastered somewhere."

"Um, okay. Are you sure there's nothing to worry about?"

"I'm touched that you care so much about your new partner, but trust me. She's got her problems solved." _Until he comes home, that is. I love the damn man, really I do—more than Keladry, definitely. He's like a brother to me. But please, gods, don't let him come home!_

~~

Meanwhile, Keladry felt a butterfly flutter in her stomach. She stared at the couple seated across from her, almost in disbelief. At last, she found her voice and stammered, "You… you want me to… to be the godmother?"

"Of course we do! You're our closest friend, Kel," Lalasa insisted.

The female officer shifted uneasily on the couch, one hand squeezing the armrest. "Isn't it a bit early to be asking that, though? The baby isn't even here yet."

"We're too excited," Roald admitted. "I think we have his," he froze under Lalasa's reproachful stare," or _her_ life planned out for the first five years!"

"Are you absolutely sure you want me—"

"Stop asking! You know we wouldn't have anyone else." The mother-to-be sat down beside her friend and laid her head on Keladry's shoulder. She pouted. "And also…"

"Also what?"

She hugged Keladry's arm. "Come shopping for baby things with me!"

Roald got up with a sigh from the loveseat and headed to the kitchen. He threw a knowing look over his shoulder at Keladry. She realized that he must have been dragged to a mall every week being Lalasa's husband. Roald refilled his glass and took a long sip.

When Lalasa's gaze landed on him, she released Keladry and raised her head so she could see over the kitchen counter. "Honey, please cut me a piece of the key lime pie."

"Yes, dearest." Was that a hint of amusement that Keladry saw just now on his face?

"Oh! And could you add some of the whipped cream?"

"I already did," he sang.

Lalasa squeezed her arm again. "Isn't he wonderful? I knew he'd be like this when I first saw him. Didn't you think so, too?"

Roald closed the refrigerator door with a small kick. He rolled his eyes and picked up a fork. "The first time she saw me, I was lying unconscious in her trunk, Sweet. Wasn't I, Kel?"

Keladry nodded, smiling slightly. "But you looked very nice and kind in your oblivion."

"Thank you."

He joined the two women in the living room again, settling on the couch on the other side of Lalasa with his glass of water. Keladry was both surprised and proud to see that he had become so domestic. Some would be upset to live that mundane a life, but she knew he preferred it to the life his parents had mapped out for him. Roald appeared very relaxed while simply reclining on furniture bought with his own money.

Lalasa eventually cancelled her shopping plans when they received a call from Thom saying that he was coming to visit that day. He had been in the city for a convention and looked forward to the chance of seeing them again. Keladry couldn't help but remember the last time she saw Thom, weak from the poison he received at the now infamous Tusaine Gangster Slaughter. Cleon had vomited. Neal had been in quiet shock for days. Thom, well, he'd been poisoned.

But how this happened, no one really ever figured out.

"I should probably get going anyway. I wanted to keep Neal company during his physical therapy session." Honestly, she simply had no wish to see Thom again. He'd changed from the time she had met first met him Carthak, and she had not liked it. She pointed to the table. "Can I use your COMscreen?"

"You don't even have to ask," Lalasa assured. She turned all her focus on her dessert. Roald sat beside her, gently chuckling to himself over his own musings.

Keladry called both Neal's apartment and his pager. He did not answer. She wondered if he had already started therapy. After their little spat over Ulliver, they had distanced themselves quite a bit, but Keladry could feel the gap shrinking as they settled back down into the old ways. She half expected him to enter her apartment uninvited like he used to and fix himself a cup of coffee. But maybe that was an event that would be a while yet in coming.

As it was, Neal was not answering and Keladry had no pressing excuse to seek him out. She turned the COMscreen off retreated back to her seat across from the hosting couple. Lalasa swallowed her bit of pie and beamed at her.

"I have to cook before Uncle Thom gets here. Help me, would you?"

"I'll get the phone book," Roald murmured. He got to his feet with a heavy sigh.

The DJPF officer looked from first her, then him. "What for?"

"Pizza delivery," he confessed.

Lalasa slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Ha! You think you're so funny."

"I know I am," he replied mischievously, showing her a devious expression that only Lalasa saw. It sent shivers up her spine. She found it incredibly sexy how someone as reserved as Roald could change attitudes within seconds.

Keladry mentally gagged at the passionate looks the couple was exchanging. There they went, off in their own little world—with only each other for company. It irked her to see them so indulgent in each other. But why was this? She had seen them act that way before. Keladry insisted to herself that it was not jealousy. No! Her? Envious?

As green as the Jolly Green Giant.

Keladry ended up making Alfredo sauce while Lalasa brought the water to a boil for the pasta. Normally, she had no aptitude for cooking, like the Carthaki woman, but the recipe card was very straightforward. She even liked cooking a bit more than she used to, thanks to Ulliver's encouragement. He came to her apartment every now and then to cook with her. It had been one of their newest bonding activities. Now she used it as a distraction from the saccharine sweet faces that Roald and Lalasa were making at each other. Is this what happened to people when they had babies? Did they become annoyingly happy?

Gods be thanked, Keladry thought, that none of her other friends were expecting. She probably would have shut herself up in her apartment with a stockade of food and anti-romantic books and magazines for nine months. _The Complete History of Mithros_ would have made a good candidate for reading material during her isolation.

Her thoughts strayed back to her best friend. Where _was_ Neal?

~~

"Sorry I'm late. I had to reschedule my physical therapy session."

Neal massaged his own forearm gently as he took his seat beside Dom and Wolset. He'd left his place as soon as Dom had called. Though he had rushed on over, he still had no idea what the reason for their meeting was. His god brother appeared calm enough. Surely it couldn't be anything more than a trivial get together among friends.

The presence of the injured officer reminded Wolset of his initial goal in seeing the two men. He was seated in his chair, his knees drawn up to his chest and his shins leaning against the edge of the table. Dom offered him a can of soda, which he gratefully took.

"So, what's new?" Neal began.

"Besides you getting lucky with a couple of nurses, nothing," Dom smiled.

"Cute," he replied sarcastically. He nodded toward Wolset. "Hey, man. What's going on? How's work? Because I heard," he shook a finger pointedly at him, "that work is the number one cause of work-related accidents. Take me for example!"

Dom rolled his eyes at his relation's sorry attempt at humor. Thank the Goddess he hadn't chosen to be a comedian. "Well, no d'uh. Look at you, Neal; you're _always_ injured nowadays. Poor Wolsie has to fill in for you with Kel until you're back in the field. And at the rate you're going, you'll be dead before next winter holiday."

He was rewarded for his comments with a half-hearted punch from the injured officer. Wolset, to his credit, simply became a spectator to events. He had no desire to speak up. And now that Neal was actually in the room, he felt his earlier reason and purpose slip away from his grasp. As far as he could tell, Keladry and Neal were friends again after whatever minor falling out they had had. Neal probably wanted to put it all behind him and look toward the future.

The youngest man was stirred from his thoughts when he noticed a hand waving in front of his face.

"Something bothering you?" Neal asked.

Wolset gulped. He set down his can on the table and lowered his feet to the floor. "Nothing," he lied. "I am as carefree as can be."

"Glad to hear it," Dom nodded. Unlike Neal, he knew what was really going on in Wolset's mind. But as far as he was concerned, it was nothing to worry about. The best remedy was to just spend some time together, being guys with nothing else better to do than drink and talk. He glanced at his watch. Maybe he ought to order pizza, too.

He looked up when Neal patted his arm.

"What now?"

"Go call Ulliver up. See if he wants to come hang out with us. While we're here, we might as well make it a small party, eh?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess. I'll call him right now."

It was one more thing that nagged at the corner of his mind. But for some reason, he didn't know why. Dom dismissed the thought and got up to use the COMscreen. In the background he could hear Neal giving Wolset a hard time about being so passive. The younger officer was trying very hard to look unbothered by Neal's intimidation, but it wasn't working. 

He hoped Wolset would learn to be more comfortable around them. The young man had been accustomed to working with men he'd known for a while, at least, and now Neal and his circle of friends were more or less initiating him into their group as well. It was a jittery feeling that Dom was sure Wolset would get over soon with the help of conventional 'guy' behavior.

_Where's my DVD of The Lioness Rampant?_ He wondered. _Nah.__ Not manly enough. Look's like it's Scarface tonight._

His attention turned back to the COMscreen when Ulliver picked up. The major was dressed in a black T-shirt and was rubbing a towel over his head. He had obviously rushed to get dressed after his shower. The clothing clung to him like a skin. 

"Hey, Dom. What's going on?"

"Nothing much. Wolsie and Neal are over here. You should come up. We have beer, Al Pacino, and his 'little friend'?" he asked, accenting the last two words in a horrible imitation. 

Ulliver caught the hint. "Ah. Damn. As much as I would enjoy that, I'm inspecting new SWAT recruits. Putting them in the hot seat and all that." He slung the towel over his shoulders. Then, he scratched his head and sighed. "I was going to see Kel tonight, but she said she'd promised a friend to go with him somewhere."

Neal sneezed in the background.

"Oh. Well, we'll save a couple of cold ones for you in case you want to drop by later."

"I don't know. I might be out until two a.m."

Dom rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? I'll still be trying to get a buzz by two a.m. Just barge in whenever, alright?"

The major grinned. "I hear ya."

When the connection ended, Dom turned around and glared at Neal, who helplessly shrugged. Neal leaned back in his seat and flashed an apologetic smile. "Oops? Aw, it doesn't matter. I thought those two were spending too much time together anyway."

"You're the one who set them up in the first place, genius."

Neal's expression darkened. "Yeah. Don't remind me."

~~

Keladry was glad that she was washing dishes. When Thom Trebond, also known as The Wizard, walked through the door, she was not obligated to greet him right away because she was doing the chore. Her curtness went unnoticed since Lalasa made a big fuss about welcoming her adopted uncle. He hugged the Carthaki woman earnestly and exchanged a firm handshake with Roald.

She could hear them talking in the living room, but she refused to look up. She pressed the sponge to the plate and scrubbed in circular motions, forcing all other matters to the back of her mind. The dishes had to be done. The sound of the scrubbing could have prevented her from really noticing anyone enter the apartment anyway.

It wasn't as if Thom and she had any connection other than Lalasa. He had seemed so different the last time he had been in town, when that awful massacre had occurred. The poison, Lalasa's hysteria… Why had he looked at her so strangely when she had come to visit him in the hospital? It had appeared like he was hiding something from her. But what?

The list of grievances did not end there. First and foremost in her mind was the fact that Joren had taken him aside for a talk at Neal's birthday party.

Joren had ignored her to talk to him about something she never found out about.

It made an angry heat well up from the bottom of her gut, making her want to spit. He'd kept secrets until the very end. She had not minded at the time, but now that she thought about it, Keladry wished she had known. Yes, it was hard for him to tell her everything that he already had. But wasn't she just as involved as him? Whatever the two men had talked about—it must have had something to do with the Tusaine mafia that had wreaked so much havoc the previous season.

_Get over it. You're crazy,_ she told herself.

"Yes. Yes, I am," she muttered.

Eventually they sat down to eat what Lalasa had managed to cook in addition to the Fettuccini Alfredo. It was a nice casserole that actually resembled the picture in the cookbook. Keladry's honest opinion was that it was a tad bit bland, but she did not dare say anything aloud. She had helped cook it, anyway. She deserved her own blandness.

"So!" Thom began, attempting to strike up a conversation with the otherwise silent officer. "Miss Mindelan, how have things been? How's that incorrigible partner of yours? Stone?"

Lalasa dropped her fork in surprise. Immediately, Roald bent down toward the floor to retrieve it for her. The looks of dismay on both of their faces told Keladry that they were concerned for her.

_For my answer, more likely._ To her friends' horror, she decided to smile back at the scientist and chirp, "Vanished. That's all. I've got a new partner now."

The mother-to-be and her husband paled and gaped at her open-mouthed like fish on ice.

Thom blinked. "I see. Sorry to hear that." He chuckled nervously. "Well, you know how it goes. I suppose in the career of law enforcement, there are always plenty of partner changes in the system. If there weren't, how would the DJPF maintain the level of effectiveness that they've always had? You've got to match the talent and experience, right?"

"Right," Roald answered for her. He nodded sympathetically to Keladry, attempting to cover up any past shock that he had received. "We're all very proud of our DJPF friends. We wouldn't know what we'd have done without them."

"You'd be in Tortall, working in some candidate's campaign," Lalasa reminded airily.

"True," Roald confessed.

"But we could always have left you in that trunk," Keladry reminded.

The politician's son pouted. "I could hardly imagine who I'd be today if I'd ended up in some psycho's trunk."

The night continued on rather awkwardly. After dinner, Keladry made an excuse to see Neal and make sure he was doing well. Roald secretly understood her unease around Thom. His wife would never have seen it their way, having known Thom nearly all her life. So he escorted Keladry to the door and bid her a fond goodnight.

"Enjoy your midnight runs to the grocery store," Keladry whispered.

He smiled. "I always pick up a thing or two myself. If I'm not careful, I just might grow a big belly, too."

She hugged Roald and waved to Lalasa who was seated on the couch with Thom. As soon as the door was closed, she let out a deep sigh and trudged wearily down the hall. The lights were dim and everything around her was silent and still.

Keladry felt alone.

Glancing back and the door to her friends' apartment, she knew that she was not truly alone. But for some reason—some gut-twisting reason—she felt like there was no one to connect with at that very moment. There were certain days in which she felt so separate from the world. Like she was standing still in a crowded intersection, watching the world go by.

When she was outside, breathing in the fresh air, she walked over to a public COMscreen booth and shut herself inside. There were only so many people she could page. If circumstances were different, her fingers would have automatically dialed for Cleon or Faleron. Neal, if they hadn't been so distant as of late. She dialed a number and hung up after five seconds.

Only a minute passed before the COMscreen rang. Keladry answered it, putting on her bravest face.

"Hi. Is something wrong?" her caller asked.

She let her gaze stray to other things than the screen. The lamp post looked semi-interesting, did it not? "No… yes. I don't know." She glanced toward his eyes. "Am I interrupting you? Did I page you at a bad time?"

His eyes widened imperceptibly. "No! No, of course not. I can cancel right now and meet up with you in a few minutes if you want."

"I don't want to interrupt you if you're working."

"You're too work-oriented. Let me get out of this thing real quick and I'll come pick you up. Where are you?"

She looked down at her feet to hide her embarrassment. "In front of Lalasa and Roald's building."

"And you're not waiting inside?"

"I… I don't want to talk about it. It just feels weird to be there."

He relented. "Okay. Hang on, I'll be there soon."

When he arrived on his motorcycle fifteen minutes later, Keladry was seated on the curb, lost in her own thoughts. He dismounted from his motorcycle and kicked the stand into place before sitting down beside her. It was slightly chilly out. As an intuitively gentleman response, he put an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder.

"Ulliver…" she whispered.

He gently shushed her and kissed her softly on the top of her head. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. Eventually, he coaxed her into standing up and following him to his motorcycle. This is what she needed. No questions. No provocations. He was not there to judge her, or be judged. He was balance.

And she so dearly needed that.

"Want to run away with me?" he asked her playfully.

The words had an adverse effect on her. Run away. Everyone else had run away from her. Not intentionally, perhaps, but where were they now? Cleon, Faleron… even Liam—even Neal! Where was Owen? Roald and Lalasa were too wrapped up in each other. Even Lerant and Yuki, or Dom and Qasim! She bitterly mutilated the word in her mind: _vanished_. Not vanished. They had not up and vanished. Just run away. Left her feeling separate. Alone.

"I don't _want_ to run away," she murmured into his neck. "I just…" She searched for the right words. "I need to—to stop standing in the same place watching everything pass me by."

He nodded as if he understood. And maybe he did. 

Ulliver straddled the motorcycle, handing her a helmet. Keladry held it in her hands. She eyed the machine before her. Reluctantly, she placed the helmet on her head and reached out tentatively toward his arm.

"Do you mind if I…?"

He blinked, but then caught himself and waved her ahead. "Uh, sure."

Keladry smiled as she straddled the motorcycle, being in front of Ulliver. He rested his hands around her waist easily. She liked that, too. At that particular moment, she couldn't recall Joren ever letting her drive while he remained passenger. It wasn't a concession to her. But she was sure that was how he had viewed it.

"Ready?" she called as she started up the motorcycle and revved it twice.

Ulliver grinned. "Always."

~~

He woke up abruptly, not with a jerk, but a rather slow exhalation. Turning on his side, he looked out the window. The sun was climbing into the air. Perhaps someone had summoned him to breakfast and he had ignored the calls. He did not know. And he did not particularly care.

He mechanically dressed himself, pulling on the first garments he pulled from the wardrobe. To his chagrin, they were white. He smoothed down the wrinkles absently as he sauntered to the window and leaned out to see the view more clearly. The azure sky was dotted with cottony wisps of clouds. He could see the sun peeking over a tuft of white in the distance. His host had specifically insisted that his room be placed in the east wing to catch the morning light.

Another day in paradise.

"You've got that look about you," a voice came from the doorway.

Joren glanced over his shoulder briefly, and then returned to gazing outside. Liam approached him. He came to a stop beside the blond man and also began studying the outside view.

"What look?" Joren asked. He feigned disinterest.

"Like someone just walked over your grave." 

The blond shook his head. He rested his hands on the windowsill and peered at the horizon. He could see the faint outline of the mountains past the emerald bottom of the valley. It looked so alive. How could he be allowed to see such vibrancy flourish?

"You ever had the feeling something was being stolen from you when you weren't around?" he asked Liam.

"At the Ferris wheel," Liam cryptically answered.

"What?"

"Nothing. But yes, I know the feeling."

Joren turned to him. "I expect that feeling to stay for a while. It's an annoying thought." He coughed, spinning around so that the base of his back was pressed against the windowsill. Joren folded his arms across his chest and gave Liam a scrutinizing look. "So what is it? I know you didn't come here just to exchange pleasantries." 

Liam nodded. "You're right. I came to say he's awake."

"Is he?"

"Yes."

The blond smiled subtly. "What rotten luck we have."

A Cheshire Cat grin. "Absolutely."

~~

Author's note:

It is April Fools Day as I write this. That means I graduate in 47 days. 

*mumbling and grumbling*

Why couldn't it be next week?

Anyway, I really really hope you haven't been too annoyed by my lack of posting. I've been studying for senior exams and whatnot (calculus, especially…) and I'm also writing material for scholarship contest essays, poems, and short stories. 

Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be famous.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what ya think—seriously—either by email or review. I haven't bothered to edit for typos and incongruence. Too tired.  See ya next time!

Ciao

Sulia Serafine

P.S. One non-spoiler (by my interpretation, not yours) question answered for the first person who can tell me what Liam was "cryptically" talking about.


	3. Searching For Your Eyes

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 3: Searching for Your Eyes**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13 for bad moods and bad jokes…

**Author's note**: Saying goodbye is tough. Not just for me and fan fiction, but for Keladry and Joren, too…

They were watching a movie. Keladry couldn't really remember the title. The plot had been so boring thus far that she did not care to pay much attention to the screen. The action movie which they had first intended to see had been sold out. It had been in theatres for a week and she had hoped that the crowd would thin out. As it was, neither she nor he had any alternate plans for what they now called "date night" or a Friday without DJPF duty. And so, they settled for a new romantic comedy that seemed to be getting rave reviews from women's magazines.

Keladry realized now that she might become sentimental and sappy from time to time, but that her movie tastes from then until eternity would remain that of a man's: action, adventure, and every now and then, a cheap suspense thriller.

She glanced to her side. Ulliver was far from entranced with the movie. His eyes were shut and the arm resting over her shoulders was limp. The darkness of the movie theatre made it difficult to see his face, but she knew he was sound asleep.

He appeared peaceful at least. It seemed to her that he had no cares in the world. What did he have to worry about? Nothing. Not like her. Keladry sighed. It was hard to tell him things sometimes. She knew that everyone had their grievances. It would be arrogant of her to assume Ulliver wouldn't understand. She wasn't ready to talk to anyone about all those things, though. And he never asked.

Maybe he was afraid to ask.

_We've come a long way in such a short time,_ Keladry thought. Her relationship with Ulliver was better than she had hoped it would be. Perhaps it was a sign that everything would turn out alright this time around. They made each other happy. They drove each other's loneliness away.

Keladry laid her head down on his shoulder. Her left arm was pinned between their two bodies, so she reached out with her right and clutched the edge of his jacket in her fist. There was a subconscious feeling of dread in the back of her mind that told her that if she did not hold on, he would disappear just like the others. It was a silly thought for so serious a person.

In his oblivion, Ulliver shifted toward her. Keladry breathed in sharply. As he moved to nuzzle her neck, he moved off his seat instead. Her hand shot out to grab a fistful of his shirt so as to pull him to her and keep him up. His sudden weight, however, caught her unprepared. With an undignified yelp, they fell to the floor, falling out of sight between the rows of seats.

Ulliver groaned. He pushed himself up on his elbows, opened his eyes, and looked at her quizzically. Keladry blushed.

"Ulliver, your hand."

"Oh! Sheez, I'm sorry-- hey, how did we get here?"

They sat up. One girl in the row before them watched them with a badly suppressed smile. Kelady glared at her. Glancing down at herself, she found that there were sticky traces of food on her shirt from the theatre floor.

"Yuck. I'm all sticky," she muttered.

The girl burst out laughing.

Before Keladry could snap at her and ask what was so funny, a blinding light caused her to turn her head away. An usher standing in the aisle was shining a flashlight at them. He motioned for them to get on their feet and follow him out.

A few minutes later, the two DJPF officers left the theatre, cheeks pink with mortification.

"I can't believe they kicked us out for indecent behavior. All I did was fall asleep!" Ulliver huffed. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and muttered a small curse.

Keladry wisely chose to remain silent. Ulliver rolled his eyes and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. He smiled encouragingly.

"Let's say we get ourselves some coffee. There's open mic poetry at Empire Expresso." He chuckled. "We can pretend to be deep thinkers and snap our fingers at someone else's lyrical epiphanies."

She elbowed him, pretending to be offended. "Those people take their poems seriously. You sound like it's a joke."

"But it is a joke," he replied, to his credit sounding to be anything but facetious. He even managed a straight face when he bumped his shoulder against hers and said, "Just like I think you're a joke."

"What!" Keladry gasped, grinning at the same time. There was that horrible sarcasm of his again. She punched him hard in the shoulder and slipped her hand from his grasp.

Ulliver stepped back, wincing. He rubbed his shoulder and bit his lip. He laughed. "Oh, you're going to get it now." He put one foot forward and bent his knees as if to take a runner's mark. "You better get ready. Three… two…"

She began backing away from him. Her heart skipped a beat. He wouldn't dare.

"One!"

"Ulliver!" she cried, turning to run. "You're not funny!"

She could hear his laughter behind her. "Oh, come on! You can run faster than that!"

They ran down the sidewalk, grinning and laughing. Their yellow and orange glow of the neon signs bathed them in its golden light, causing them to appear like two comets spiraling out of control. Keladry could barely breathe, she was laughing too hard. No wonder they had gotten ejected from the theatre! They _were_ being indecent, romping around like two teenagers!

Two arms closed in a gentle vise around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Got you!" Ulliver exclaimed. His warm breath tickled her ear.

"Only because I let you," she taunted, turning her head slightly to face him.

A rush of adrenalin she thought she only felt during fights was going through her body now. She felt like she was on fire. She could have run a few more blocks at the rate she was going. This incredible energy! It made her heart beat so hard and so fast. Needless to say, it was exhilarating.

When had she had this much fun with anyone? Day in and day out, there had always been work, heated arguments, passionate but cruel teasing… Here she felt like a kid again. She felt like a giddy high school student flirting with her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That was the word.

Keladry started to calm down. She disengaged Ulliver's arms from around hers and took deep breaths to slow the fierce beating of her heart. Ulliver began to do the same, though the grin was still plastered on his face.

"Want me to give you a head start this time?" he offered.

She shook her head. There was a bus stop a few feet away from them with a green bench. She walked over and sat down. She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the strong pulse from her heart start to wane. She lowered her hand again and let out a low whistle.

He plopped down beside her, crossing one ankle over another and leaning back. His face expressed concern. "Too fast?"

"No, no. You're fine," she assured. "I just… it's nothing."

It was obvious that nothing was actually something. Times before, he had let the issue slide. He had given her the space she needed. The topic would change and they would be happy again before they even knew what had disrupted their harmony in the first place. But for some mysterious reason, the disruption lasted longer than the others.

He made no move to touch her. Keladry had noted in times before that he was fond of touching her, even in small passing moments. A teasing tickle on her ribs, lacing their fingers together, even provoking her into slugging him in the arm as she did. He wasn't like Joren. He didn't set a desert between them until he deemed it was the right moment to crush together like a typhoon wave. There was always constant contact.

She studied him now. His gaze was focused on the passing traffic, almost as if he was afraid to look at her. Keladry felt a pang of guilt go through her. He had done nothing to deserve someone like her. She was damaged. She hadn't been that way a few months ago, but now she realized that Joren's damage had become her own.

_Scars fade. It just takes time. _Exhaling deeply, Keladry leaned forward and kissed Ulliver on his temple. She felt him tense up beside her. She usually never initiated anything. He was often forward enough for the both of them. Her sudden boldness was a surprise to him. Keladry couldn't tell if he was pleased or confused.

"Are you okay?" he asked, still holding himself away from her body.

She nodded. Keladry reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Let's get out of here." As an afterthought, she gave him a sly look and stood up. "I have a craving for pancakes."

"Oh no… I've done it," Ulliver theatrically whispered. "I've finally gotten Little Miss Tough Stuff Keladry Mindelan to walk on the wild side."

She snorted. "They're just pancakes."

He let her pull him up to stand beside her. He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "Oh, are they? You know, in some remote region on the other side of the world, I believe that pancakes is codeword for--"

She elbowed him hard in the ribs, just like he had expected her to.

Neal nearly choked on his breakfast. He was sitting at his desk, eating a donut, when Keladry walked in. He stared at her unabashedly, until she finally got fed up with the scrutiny and stood still in front of him. She placed her fists on her hips and locked eyes with him.

"Just what is so important that you have to gape at me like I've grown another head?" she demanded.

He hesitantly stood up and approached her. His lips were twitching. Neal was holding back a torrent of laughter that would probably earn him much resentment. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth and grinned.

"Neal!"

He reached out and played with her collar, flipping it up so that it reached her chin. "You, uh, might want to keep that up."

She stared at him, deadpan.

"Why don't you and I have lunch together, Kel? We could talk about things… people… _SWAT _people…" he offered, a mischievous glint in his eye. It was true. He did want to talk to her. He'd been so busy with paperwork on his new desk job that he hadn't seen her for little more than a few minutes that whole week. And despite the invisible chasm between them, he was determined to bridge the gap and be her best friend again.

Keladry blushed crimson. She muttered a 'thanks' and also that she would see him at lunch. The last he saw of her, she was rounding the corner to the ladies restroom.

His attention was drawn away from the sight when he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He turned to greet the newcomer. The Bazhir mechanic was standing beside Neal's desk, a pensive look on his face. Neal frowned.

"Hey, Qasim. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, actually, I need to ask you a question…"

Keladry waved to Wolset as she headed toward Neal's cubicle. After an hour of security detail at the Council building, her new partner had finally broken down and asked her about the interesting coloring on her neck. Keladry had been thoroughly embarrassed in the restroom when she had spied the marking in her mirror. Now she was thoroughly mortified to see her partner's fascinated reaction to it.

There was no getting around the fact that she had a hickey.

At least Wolset had been kind about it. But in a momentary verbal stumble, he had confessed that he had noticed once when she'd received the same 'gift' from Joren after the winter holiday. Keladry was slightly annoyed to discover that everyone had seen it and no one had told her. Since when was her love life a public amusement?

_Here you are, always priding yourself in being a responsible, prudish young woman with ideals and integrity, and… and… argh!_ Keladry blushed yet again at the thought.

Her hair was released from its usual clip and falling around her face and down to her shoulders. Coupled with her flipped up collar, no one would know. Not that it mattered. The one person she would have kept it from had been the first to point it out to her.

"Neal," she called out as she came closer.

The familiar head of wavy brown hair popped up from over the edge of the cubicle. He grinned when he saw her.

"Hey! Come on over. I was about to go looking for you. How was security detail?"

"Boring," she answered. She walked up to his desk and leaned against it. "Let's get out of here. I need some fresh air."

"Cool. I think I heard my dad saying once that fresh air was good for bruises-- oops. No, maybe that was for cuts," he said, his voice sounding somewhat smug. Keladry glared at him. "Okay, okay. I'll lay off. Promise."

They went to a small shop down the street that sold turkey sandwiches. There were small tables with large sun umbrellas positioned over them, so they ate outside. Keladry winced when she heard the scraping sound her metal chair made against the concrete when she moved it. She cleared her throat and glanced down at Neal's left arm.

He had stopped wearing the sling a couple days ago. When she asked him about it, Neal replied that he could have taken his arm out of the sling weeks before, but the doctor was reluctant to do so. His past record for injuries made the hospital staff wary of his 'ongoing condition.'

"How does it feel?" she asked, leaning her chin on her palm.

Neal stretched the arm, rotated his wrist, and flexed his fingers. He shrugged. "It feels kind of tingly. Like I lean on it too much and there's a ghost of that pins-and-needles feeling. But I think I'm fine." He groaned. "I can't wait to get out of the office. I'm so bored! I've been reduced to playing online Scrabble in my spare time!"

She nodded. She probably would have been driven crazy from inactivity as well.

Her former partner rested his straw against his lips in contemplation. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"How's Wolset? As a partner?"

Keladry didn't show any physical reaction to his question, but she mentally perked up. "Why? Are you jealous, Neal?"

He averted his gaze and shrugged. "No… Okay, yeah. Maybe." He glanced at her mistrustfully. "Is he better than me?"

"He's not lazy like you, if that clears anything up." She leaned back in her chair. "Weren't you and Owen always complaining that if it hadn't been for me, both of you would have lousy Third Class jobs? Wolset is like me. He worked his way up."

"Yeah, well, good for him. And good for you, too," Neal snapped.

Keladry stepped on his foot under the table, eliciting an outraged yelp from the man sitting across from her. She rolled her eyes and took a bite of her sandwich. "Don't be a drama queen, Neal. It isn't like you."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just-- I miss hanging out, I guess. You work with Wolset and you spend your spare time with Ulliver."

"You never complained when I ignored you and spent time with Joren," she replied evenly.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. I think that we all kinda knew," he paused, trying to find the right words, "we knew in the back of our minds that he needed you. It wasn't that hard to see. And I hated the guy, but I didn't hate him so much that I didn't want him to find help. And he did find help. He found you."

Keladry bit the inside of her cheek. "Neal?"

"Yeah?"

"Did he… did he say anything about me when he left? Besides the bit about trying to get me to move on without him?"

Neal frowned deeply. He took another bite of his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. He took his time eating while he mulled over the question. Keladry became impatiently and stepped on his foot again. His eyes darted back up to hers and he sighed. He reluctantly put his food down and nodded.

"Yeah, we talked a little on the drive up. He didn't say much. You know how he is."

"And?"

"He loved you, Kel," he blurted out. "What else do you want me to say? What do you want to _hear_? He didn't even have to say anything. It was clear. It's… your kind nature, your faith in mankind, your indomitable will." He shook his head. "He loved you and you loved him. Just leave it like that."

"How can I leave it? I feel like he's still around haunting my every move!" Keladry shot back.

"And what if he had stayed? What would the two of you done? Keep working missions for Flyndon? Someday marry, buy a house, and have kids? Have neighborhood barbecues? You _know_ him, Kel. He wouldn't have put up with the normalcy even if his life depended on it."

The female officer closed her eyes. "I don't get you, Neal. One moment, you're his advocate. The next, you're his judge, jury, and executioner."

"He's a complicated guy," he admitted. "And my thoughts of him are just as complicated. Kel, let's make this the last thing we say about him. We'll go back to being best friends. I won't get jealous of Wolset. I'll be back in the field soon. You'll continue to see Ulliver because," his eyes strayed to her neck, "it's obvious he does succeed in making you happy. And we'll leave it-- all of it-- behind."

"Okay," Keladry said hesitantly.

"Okay, then. You loved each other. He left because he had to. You move on because you have to. You've done nothing wrong and neither has he. And that's it. Case closed."

"…Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I said yes!"

Neal paused. "Okay. Oh, but before I forget. There is one more thing of closure we need to discuss."

Keladry lifted one eyebrow suspiciously. "And what is that?"

"Qasim asked me if it was alright for him to put the Black Knight Custom in storage. It's still been in the garage all this time."

She paused, then nodded.

He had been going over some files from new members of his squad when his doorbell rang. Ulliver put down the folder on his coffee table and went to the door. He pressed the button to open the door without much of an idea as to who would be visiting him after dinner.

"Kel, what are you doing here?"

She looked past him. "Is it okay for me to come in?"

"Of course! I can't believe you actually asked that. Come on in," he drew her inside and slid the door shut. Keladry wandered toward the couch, but she didn't sit. She waited for him to come closer before she spoke again.

"Why do you like me?"

The question caught him off guard. Ulliver ran his hand through his short cropped hair and shrugged. "Why not? You're smart and kind. You're fun to be with when you let your barriers down. I just like you."

She seemed to be considering something. "And what else do you think? How do you look at my… past experiences?"

"You mean, Stone?" he asked bluntly.

Keladry didn't have to hide her embarrassment. She blushed slightly. "Well, yeah."

He exhaled deeply and beckoned her to sit with him. She reluctantly sat and folded her hands in her lap. Ulliver pried her hands apart and enclosed one between his. She stared down at his hands while he spoke.

"It's fine with me. I know how you still feel. If he were to show up on your doorstep tomorrow, I'd be history. I know that," he told her gently. His calm voice betrayed no trace of hurt, but a flood of resignation. "That's okay with me. I won't begrudge you your past loves if you don't begrudge me mine. And I'll enjoy whatever time I have with you, even if I know it won't last."

"How can you look at me and not be offended by the chance that I might be thinking about him?"

Ulliver chuckled. "You know that part in _My Best Friend's Wedding_ where Cameron Diaz tells Julia Roberts that the man of their dreams has Julia on a pedestal and Cameron in his arms?"

Keladry looked up and narrowed her eyes at him. "Please tell me you did _not_ just compare the three of us to that. And while we're at it, what were you doing watching a _chick flick_?"

He shifted around slightly. "I never said I saw it. Someone, uh, just told me about it."

"Uh-huh. Right. You saw the movie. Admit it."

"I didn't! What would I be doing watching that? Trying to make myself hurl?"

"It's okay. Really. Want me to pick up a copy of the Modern Bride magazine for you on my way out?"

He glared at her.

She smiled.

Keladry suddenly stood up. She took a deep breath and widened her smile, offering her hand to help him up. She squeezed his hand. There was no burden on her shoulders anymore. No, that was a lie. There would always be some sort of weight there. But it felt more manageable now. Maybe it had been Neal. Maybe it had been Ulliver. Or maybe it was her.

"Let's make some pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes," she told him.

"Pancakes? Um, are you sure you want to…"

She walked toward the kitchenette. "Not _those_ pancakes. Real ones. I mean it. I feel like having chocolate chip pancakes."

He shrugged and followed her. "If you say so."

Neal sat on the curb outside the storage facility and popped the lid to his can. When Qasim sat down beside him, he handed him a can, still dripping with cold precipitation. The Rider popped the lid and took a long sip of the drink. The two men drank in silence.

The wind started to pick up. Neal brushed a few strands from his face. He glanced over his shoulders at the orange garage door that led to vehicle storage.

"It's such a shame. Something that beautiful shouldn't have been left behind," he said to his companion.

Qasim nodded. "But in the end it wasn't that important. All those years… he clung to it because he refused to summon up his memories of his father. And now it's all in the open."

The taller man frowned. "I didn't know you knew about that."

The Bazhir made a so-so motion with his hand. "We spent a lot of time in the garage with wrenches and oil stains. Guys talk."

"What do you think he's doing right now?"

"Who knows? Maybe he's just kicking back with a beer like we're doing right now. Thinking about really trivial things… Or maybe he's trying to find inner peace in a monastery."

They both exchanged blank glances.

"Nah," they said simultaneously.

Author's notes:

I've been overwhelmed with anti-Ulliver, pro-Joren mail. But just bear with me. Do you think after the teaser I dropped in the last chapter with Joren's scene that he was just going to remain 'vanished'? This episode was another introspective piece for Keladry's mental health, if anything. A girl like that with problems like hers needs to sit down and sort these things out.

Thanks for reading! See ya next time!

Sulia S.


	4. Will You Be My Husband?

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 4: Will You Be My Husband?**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13 for bad moods and bad jokes…

**Author's Note: **The things we do to please people… This is a Riders' Own episode, but fear not! As always, Keladry's all over it!

-------------------------

Yuki noh Daiohmoru was not one for convention. In fact, she was staunchly against convention for the simple reason that she did not like being told what was acceptable. _She _was the one who would have to live with her decisions. She steered toward a career as a demolition expert at a very young age, dropping out of the DJPF Academy to take partial status as a Rider working for the famous Raoul Malorie. She continued to become a pioneer in her field, developing new explosives and trigger mechanism designs. She was even having a scandalous (actually, there was nothing scandalous about it—she just liked pretending) liaison with one of her colleagues, Lerant Eldorne.

The couple did not act anything like a couple except when no one was around. That being the case, hardly anyone outside the Riders' Own knew about it. It wasn't exactly what one would call a relationship as much as a Strange Undefinable Gray Area with Benefits. No. Yuki was not for traditional gushy romance. Nor was she all that passionate about their supposed "forbidden tryst" in which nothing was forbidden and there was very little tryst-ing anyway. To tell the truth, they spent the majority of their time sitting on Yuki's couch watching football or basketball.

There was one thing, however, that made Yuki cringe in the face of convention. A force untouched by age, one that she could never fully stand up to, no matter how hard she tried. It was of a power that existed before Yuki was even born, passed down from generation to generation of the noh Daiohmoru clan. It was not questioned. It was not defied. It was the dynamic duo of duty, her parents.

"You're what?" she stared incredulously at the COMscreen before her.

"We're coming to visit. And we're bringing along Eikichi. He's a nice young man. You'll fall in love and get married and I _will_ have grandchildren, so the gods help me," her mother said almost without pausing for breath.  Her stern face told Yuki that if she dare disputed her mother's decision, there would be hell to pay.

Yuki gulped. She knew who Eikichi was. They had grown up on the same street as children. A nice boy, a little boring… But what was he like now? No matter. He could have been the wealthiest, most handsome man in the world and she still wouldn't love him because her _mother_ would have arranged it. And there was no hoping that Eikichi would let his wife run around blowing things up (legally, of course) because if he _was_ lenient like that, her mother wouldn't have bothered choosing him.

She decided very quickly that she had to dodge this matchmaking by any means possible. And so, without further ado, Yuki opened her small mouth and blurted the biggest lie she had ever told.

"But mother, I'm already engaged."

---------------------------

Keladry backed away in surprise when the elevator doors opened and Yuki stepped through, looking highly distressed and incredibly anxious. Keladry was on her way to Ulliver's floor. If there was anything she had learned while dating Joren and then Ulliver was that she never had to worry about constant fuel costs or car mileage when her boyfriend lived  in the same building—two floors down, in this case. She couldn't even imagine what life would be like if, as in Yuki's situation, her boyfriend lived two apartments down. There would simply be too much temptation to see him all the time. When did Yuki and Lerant ever get their space?

"Are you okay?" she ventured shyly, not really wanting to hear Yuki's explanation, but fearing she would sound cold if she didn't say something.

Yuki shook her head. "It's nothing."

Keladry blinked. Well, she was far from being the newspaper advice columnist who helped everyone out with their problems. It was Yuki who had given her advice on what to wear on dates with Liam anyhow. She doubted that she could have been of any real help to the female Rider. It was just too hard to reach forward and make the empathetic connection. Though for some odd reason, Keladry itched to know what the matter was. She rationalized that it couldn't have been that bad.

Ignorance was bliss, she decided. Besides, Yuki had probably just run out of plastique.

She was disappointed when they reached Ulliver's floor and Keladry had to step off. Yuki distractedly said goodbye to her as she pressed the button to close the doors. She had to go to the garage and clean up the mess she had just made as soon as possible. It would be hard and it would cost her dignity and pride, but that was okay. Anything in the war against her parents.

The garage was badly lit, as always. The sky outside was gray. It would rain soon. Yuki thought it was appropriate for the mood. She only hoped that Lerant wouldn't take it as badly as she thought he would. She spotted him sitting on a stool, talking to Qasim, who was lying beneath a squad car about to change the oil. Having the mechanics working for the DJPF cut down on car maintenance costs, causing unfortunates like Qasim to spend nearly all their spare time doing trivial things like changing filters.

"Lerant! Can I talk to you for a second?" she called.

Lerant's head snapped up. He shrugged. "Sure." He leaned down to peer at Qasim under the car. "I'll talk to you later, buddy." He sauntered over, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Yuki noticed that there was a hole in his jeans over the knee. Her mother would never have approved, had Yuki consulted her. She kept her thoughts to herself as he approached. "What's up?"

Yuki began to take a few steps toward the entrance to the garage, just to see him in better light. She very rarely felt flustered, but she found herself uncontrollably bothered by the situation. She toyed with the strap to her overalls to distract herself.

"Yuki?"

She lifted her eyes to his. "Um, my parents are visiting. They want to meet you."

He scratched his dirty blond head. "Is that all? Okay. Should I clean my place? I can borrow some of Prosper's nice shirts, if you want me to."

Yuki shook her head. "We're going to have to do more than that."

His eyebrows rose. "Oh? Do you want me to get a haircut?"

"I want you to pretend that you've proposed to me and that we're getting married soon."

"WHAT?"

She winced inwardly. Lerant stared at her as if she had just told him that she was pregnant and that she was having a green alien for a baby. He anxiously ran his hand through his hair. His brow creased as his eyebrows drew together in concentration. He shook his head.

"Why would you say something like that?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. "Are you feeling unsatisfied with whatever we have? Are you _ashamed_ or something? You feel you have to lie about—"

"No!" Yuki protested, feeling slightly aggravated. "Don't be stupid. Of course that's not it. It's just that my mother… she can be so intimidating sometimes and I always feel like I have to step up or something. I can't disappoint them."

He glared at her pointedly. "What do you call dropping out of the Academy with a demolition license, then? You used to tell me that you were on your way to becoming a high power administrative figure."

She sighed. "That was different. Raoul came down himself and talked my parents into letting me join his team. They couldn't resist the incentive of bragging to their friends that I worked with a celebrity law enforcement officer. I wouldn't have gotten away with it otherwise."

"Oh. And so you're going to cater to them again by pulling off this stunt. Right."

_Oh, gods, he's annoyed._ Yuki pouted. "Just a short while. They'll be out of here soon enough. I'll tell them later that we broke up or something. It'll delay them from matchmaking me for now."

The reaction to this statement was what she would later consider something akin to a kettle boiling over. He threw his hands up in the air, an expression of complete irritation on his face. At once, Yuki knew that she should have just hung up on her mother in the first place. The consequences would have been harsh, but not as confrontational as this. She clutched her overalls strap tightly in her hand, unsure of what else to do. He would probably yell at her now—tell her that it was stupid and wrong to lie like that to her own parents about something they would eventually be caught in.

Lerant walked out of the garage entrance and sat down on a concrete barrier surrounding a row of decorative bushes. He gripped his knees tightly, trying to squeeze out all his stress through the muscles of his hands. Being a Rider for so long made his hands strong, so he quickly regretted it and loosened his hold. At last, Lerant folded his arms across his chest, slumped his shoulders, and fixed Yuki with an exhausted eye.

"So what do you expect me to do? Just put on an act for a few days?"

"If you want to."

He snorted. "It doesn't seem like I have a choice. You already told her that we were engaged. You mentioned my name."

"I didn't mention any name. I just said that I had become engaged to a very nice young man and that we were going to have a very small, private wedding soon. That's all." She wanted to run away. It felt cowardly and she was by far not a cowardly person. No. Just this once. She would run away just this once. She promised.

"I…I…" Lerant shook his head. He rubbed his hands over his eyes tiredly. "I can't do that."

Yuki tried to ignore the tiny constrictions in her chest. "That's fine. I don't mind. It's not real anyway. I can ask Prosper or Seaver to do it." She took a deep shuddering breath. "Probably Seaver. He's a field medic. That would go over well with my mother. She would have loved having me as a doctor."

He stood up and nodded. "Okay then."

It was surreal.

It was… a little _more_ than surreal seeing Lerant touch her shoulder. It felt dreamlike how he wished everything would go well for her "great deception". She knew he was being sincere when he told her that nothing would change between them. But as he walked toward the elevator, with some reluctance in his gait, she couldn't feel anything but emptiness. It hadn't been there before.

Why was she getting so worried? They weren't _really_ dating. They were doing _something_ but a good many people wouldn't consider it dating. It was almost like keeping someone company, Yuki reasoned. But she knew that reason had no merit, so she banished it readily from her mind. After the whole affair was over, she would make things up to Lerant. She didn't know how, but she would. He deserved so much more.

The rest of the day had Yuki interviewing her fellow Riders one by one in an effort to determine how each of them were going to help her pull off the greatest con in their widely experienced lives. The majority of them had reservations about putting their skills to use against unknowing civilians, let alone Yuki's parents. After a while, she was able to persuade them into seeing it as an exercise or a drill.

Raoul thought it was a shame that she felt she had to deal with her parents that way, but he enigmatically told her that she'd "learn soon enough" and agreed to whatever plans she would make, as long as they were within reason.

It was an hour until dinner time when she knocked on Keladry Mindelan's door. The First Class female officer was genuinely surprised at having a visitor, but she wasted no time showing Yuki in and offering her a drink. Yuki declined the offer and sat on the couch, clipboard and papers under one arm.

"So, is there something I can help you with?" Keladry asked reluctantly.

Yuki had spent all day long talking about it and she was too exhausted to beat around the bush. "You've heard about my situation?"

Keladry nodded. "Dom dropped by and told me about it. He seems to think it's just asking for trouble, but that he would still do it—for you."

"Yes. I'm glad I've got him," she murmured thoughtfully. "Anyway, Kel, the reason I came here to speak to you is to ask you to stand in as a, uh, best female friend of sorts. There's no question that my mother is going to ask me who my maid of honor is. And seeing as you've had that experience with Lalasa and Roald, I figured that this wouldn't be that big of a stretch for you." She paused. "Would you be willing to do this for me?"

Considering the strange circumstances, there should have been a number of things running through Keladry's mind, much like: is this right? Don't her parents deserve to know the truth? If Yuki doesn't stand up to them now, what will she have to do next? –A great deal of things that reflected Keladry's values… but as it was, she could only think of something else:

_By Glory, I'm going to have to wear a horrible bridesmaid dress again._

"Kel?"

"No taffeta," Keladry blurted before she could sort out what she was going to say.

Yuki blinked. "Of… of course not."

---------------------------

Seaver rested his left ankle on his right knee, lightly scratching his leg. He exhaled deeply. When he had agreed to this charade of Yuki's, he hadn't expected to be so bored. Most of the work was to be done during the actual visit. The preparation for it turned out to be a list unexciting chores that mostly involved memorizing Yuki's middle name and some childhood stories she would have told him.

At the moment, he was sitting on his fellow Rider's couch, watching a basketball game on the Holoscreen. Yuki and Keladry were putting the finishing touches on the presentation of food snacks. They were serving overpriced hors d'oeuvres, obtained when Ulliver cashed in on a favor from a chef friend. It had not shocked Keladry in the least. In fact, she suspected from the way the food tasted that this friend was probably the one to teach Ulliver how to cook.

Keladry applied herself with a zest that she did not remember having during Lalasa's nuptial preparations. Of course, now she felt more obligated to do a better job—and not just because of Yuki's strict parents. After Keladry's initial reaction to Yuki's "maid of honor" proposal, she had asked the Yamani woman why Fianola hadn't been picked for the part. Yuki revealed that Fianola had burst into tears when asked. The girl had been completely distraught at the mention of weddings, managing to shriek Faleron's name before fleeing to her bedroom and slamming the door.

It went without saying that Keladry felt horrible for Fianola. And so she acted with such enthusiasm as she knew Fianola would have applied had Yuki chosen her to be her faux maid of honor. To her delight, Yuki assured her that they would just fake the elaborate planning while her parents were there. There was no way that they would have to actually produce bridesmaid dresses or even floral arrangements. Maybe a seating chart or two, but that was it.

"Just a couple of days. That's all. Now what time is it? They're going to be here soon!" Yuki groaned. She smoothed down her simple sleeveless dress, made of a smooth pastel blue fabric that complimented her creamy complexion.

Seaver sighed. "It had better be. I don't have to kiss you, do I?"

"We discussed this, Seaver," Yuki rolled her eyes. "They'll see right through it if you don't. Just a peck on the cheek, that's all."

"Lerant's going to kill me," he muttered. Yuki pretended not to hear.

The intercom buzzed, indicating someone was at the door. Keladry immediately looked to Yuki in order to gauge her reaction. The demolition woman's face seemed pale and stone like, almost as if she were a statue. Another second's hesitation and she came to life again, hurrying toward the door. Before she peeked out the spy hole in the door, she glared at Seaver, who then stood up and brushed invisible lint off his shoulders.

"Hello! Yuki, we're here!" a woman's crisp, aristocratic voice announced. A imagined bell seemed to toll in the background, letting everyone in the apartment know that the time had come.

Yuki pressed the button for the door and stepped back. As soon as it slid open, she put on a forced smile and held her arms out to her parents.

"Mom! Dad! It's so great to see you!"

The short woman who stepped into the apartment quickly wrapped her arms around her daughter, squeezed her arms around Yuki's waist once, and let go. She moved away so that the accompanying man could do the same. Unlike his wife, he was as tall as Yuki. It was obvious to see who Yuki took after.

Both parents had the same pale creamy complexion as their daughter, but there were scant lines on their face save for the crow's feet at their eyes. There was not even a single gray hair on either parent's head. Their raven tresses were straight and combed back. Her mother wore it in a simple bun at the base of her neck while her father had it cut short and parted on the side. Keladry was aghast to find herself reminded of an Eastern Yamani version of Roald.

"You are looking well, daughter," her father said. Yuki uncharacteristically bowed from the waist, a little wobbly as if she had not done it in a long time.

Yuki swept her arm out to the side in a welcoming gesture. "Come have a seat! I'd like to introduce you to my best friend Keladry Mindelan."

Keladry came forward and bowed. She had studied up on how to traditionally greet someone of Eastern Yamani descent. Though many of their culture had relaxed on old forms of tradition, Yuki's family was still very deeply entrenched in the cultural values that had been handed down for centuries.

Though her gesture was smooth and practiced, Seaver's was a little shakier. He nervously smiled and meekly said, "Hello."

"Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Seaver Tasride. Seaver, these are my parents. My mother, Kimi noh Daiohmoru and my father, Keiji noh Daiohmoru."

"It is so nice to finally meet you. We have heard many great things—" Kimi began to say before the door behind them suddenly opened.

Lerant stepped through, looking only mildly out of breath as he adjusted his neck tie and strode purposefully toward the center of the room. He put one hand on Seaver's shoulder, gently nudging him aside as he took his fellow Rider's place. A smile graced his features as he held out his hand to shake theirs. In the background, Keladry and Yuki stared on in absolute shock and worry.

"Hey, there! Sorry I'm late. I'm Lerant Eldorne. I see you've already met my Best Man here. Seaver's such a great guy. He's my best friend—with the exception, of course, of your lovely daughter." He grasped Keiji's hand before the elder man knew what was going on.

"Oh, I see," Yuki's father managed to say. He regained his composure quickly. "Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you, Lerant."

"Yuki! I'm not too late am I?" Lerant asked, fixing Yuki with the most peculiar stare.

The female demolition expert was at a loss for words. She mutely shook her head. He took the opportunity to wink at her. Out of nowhere, Yuki felt a rush of warmth pervade her chest. She ducked her head and murmured something unintelligible before retreating to the kitchenette for the hors d'oeuvres.

Seaver fell back onto the couch, followed by Keladry. It had been quite an unexpected turn of events. They had no idea what to do next. All their careful preparations now seemed flawed and easily upset. Lerant didn't even know the script!

"Please, sit." He waited until the Daiohmoru's were seated comfortably on the couch before he took his place by Seaver's side. He elbowed Seaver in the side. At first, the confused Rider didn't know what Lerant wanted. But as the silence stretched on, and being that Seaver _was_ an intelligent and resourceful member of the Riders' Own, he guessed what his friend wished him to say.

He cleared his throat. "You know, just the other day, the four of us were having a discussion and we did feel awful that you weren't told earlier about all this. The wedding, I mean."

"What else did we say?" Lerant prompted, trying to only _appear_ forgetful.

"We have to get in touch with the minister," Keladry supplied. "You need to get the marriage license, as well."

Seaver coughed. "No, besides that."

"Uh…" Keladry didn't know what either man had in mind, but she wasn't following. She sighed and sat back, willing to let them take control. They seemed to know what they wanted to say.

Yuki returned with the tray. Though she had warned them that her behavior was going to change in her parents' presence, they were not ready for the demure dove that had just appeared. Yuki bent her body with the utmost grace, offering the hors d'oeuvres to first her father then her mother.

"These look adequate. Very good, daughter," Kimi approved, taking a tentative bite. She nodded and swallowed after some very small chewing. "It would have been better had it been the traditional foods I taught you to cook when you were young. Surely you have not forgotten those?"

"You will need them to please your future husband in your kitchen," her father added. Both her parents seemed to put on stern, expressionless masks the likes of which made Keladry jealous. Their stoicism came so naturally. It would have driven any DJPF interrogator crazy trying to read them.

Yuki finally sat after her three friends had taken a bit of food for themselves. Keladry noticed how she did not meet anyone's eyes.

_What's wrong now?_

They made small conversation for another half hour, spouting random details that Lerant pretended to embarrassingly forgotten (but was, in fact, learning the master plan as they spoke). After a while, her parents claimed that they were tired from their trip and had better check into the hotel for rest. Yuki and Lerant walked them to the door, Lerant's hand resting uncharacteristically at the base of Yuki's back. Keladry could see the demolition expert tense at the unusual display of affection, though slight it was.

When the door opened, Kimi turned around and spoke something to Yuki in their native language. Yuki's eyes widened imperceptibly, but she bowed her head and responded with what everyone else assumed was the affirmative.

Then her parents were gone and a slightly shaken Yuki noh Daiohmoru was left in their wake.

"What did they say?" Seaver asked.

Yuki did not express her emotion on her face, but her voice betrayed it all. It was weak and disheartened. "My father has retired. They've acquired enough money that they can stay here visiting for however long until we have the wedding. Apparently they're putting up the pretense of not wanting to miss anymore of my 'precious' moments like rehearsal dinner and bridesmaid dress try-on's. After all, I'm their only child." She sank into her armchair and exhaled deeply. "Really, I think they just want to make sure I don't back out of the match."

"Match?" Keladry frowned.

"Marriage. They mean marriage. Every traditional marriage was arranged by match, so they often interchange the two words." She didn't say anything else about it, but they all knew the implications. Lerant fidgeted. He appeared as if he wanted to scream and curse but was barely holding himself in check.

"We have to go all the way now. Just as I feared."

"We'll get through it. Come on! Let's get to planning, shall we?" Lerant struck up, giving out an optimistic aura that at least lifted Keladry and Seaver's spirits, even if it did nothing to assuage the anxieties of the 'couple' involved.

---------------------------

Keladry finally got to her apartment late that night. Yuki had gone on a wedding dress hunt while she had been delegated the task of informing the rest of the conspirators of the new developments. The men were annoyed at the idea of having to wear tuxedos again. At least Fianola didn't cry this time around when Keladry approached her about it, though Buri appeared absolutely murderous at having to put on another formal dress. Keladry appeased her by explaining that it was a private, low scale ceremony anyway. Buri did not need to dress up quite so much, so as to avoid upstaging the bride.

Seaver and Lerant had run away somewhere that she did not know promptly after Yuki's departure. It was clear by the look on the groom's face that he wanted to speak with Yuki, but she had left in search of a dress as soon as her parents had pulled out of the parking lot in their rented luxury car. Keladry felt slightly sorry for Seaver. Lerant was in sore need of venting his displeasure and Seaver was sure to get the brunt end of it, wherever they were.

She scolded herself not to worry. Lerant was a level-headed person, even with his newly revealed temper. He was probably being tutored by Seaver in the plans that they had made—and making up new ones while they were at it. Yuki had only anticipated a short visit in which she would have taken her parents out to dinner, held a small pre-wedding get together with friends, and sent them home again thinking that their little girl was on her path toward normalcy.

_Marriage is normalcy. Neal was right. Joren would never have stood for it. He would never have married me. Loved me, he would have. Marry me, never. It would be against his nature._

Keladry dragged her feet as she went to her closet in search of her dress from Lalasa's wedding. She carelessly removed the plastic draped over the dress and flung it to the floor. There was nothing better on a Friday night than to try on an old bridesmaid's dress in hopes that it would still fit. It did. Keladry hadn't expected any problems. She was just as fit as the day she put it on. It had been less than a year ago, after all.

The door intercom buzzed. Keladry glanced at the clock. With her dress still on, she marched to the door and pressed the intercom button. "Who is it?"

_It is so indecently late. I would yell at the person if I weren't so tired._

"It's me," Ulliver's voice reached her ears. "We were supposed to rent that scary movie… you know, the one we keep saying we'll watch when there aren't any shrieking and scared people surrounding us in a theater?"

Keladry groaned inwardly. She had completely forgotten. In the rush to reformulate new plans, she had stood Ulliver up on their appointed Date Night. She sighed and pressed the button again. "I'm sorry. Yuki's got this whole mess on her hands now and I just forgot. I'm really sorry."

"Can I come in? Or will I have just have to kiss the intercom speaker goodnight?"

She smirked. "Actually, I was thinking that the speaker was in need of some loving."

"Jerk," he replied, feigning hurt.

Keladry opened the door, leaning on the frame as Ulliver came into view. His eyebrows rose just a bit and his mouth formed a little 'O' when he saw her in her baby blue dress. The dress did its duty in flattering her athletic figure, despite the decorative but annoying sash that tied into a complicated bow at the back. He gave a low whistle, running his hand through his short dark hair as he stepped inside.

"Wow."

She fidgeted. "It's not that great a dress."

Ulliver shrugged. "Well, I think it's hot."

_Blushing is perhaps the one involuntary body function I could do without,_ she thought. Before she could think of a clever response, Ulliver closed the apartment door behind him and was slipping an arm around her waist. Her heart started beating a little faster. His other arm copied the actions of the first. There was very little space now separating their bodies.

"This dress," he whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, "is a bit too hot, don't you think? I regret to say it might get in the way…"

She tensed.

_"Anyway, let's not talk about that. Do I get to see this dress of yours before Sunday?"_

_"What are you getting at?" she asked suspiciously._

_"Nothing big.__ Can't I act like any other Joe and want to see you in your nice, frighteningly expensive gown?"_

_She narrowed her eyes. "Uh-huh. And I'm sure the dress wouldn't survive to see the weekend if your prowling hands were near."_

_"If it gets in the way, it's a tragic casualty. Not my fault." He_ _grinned and leaned_ _forward._

"Ulliver—" she gasped, a strangled sound that immediately alerted him to her distress. He instantly backed off, terrified that he had come on too strong and scared her in the process.

He let go, arms falling to his sides and eyes shooting up to look her in the eyes. But she wouldn't have it. Keladry averted her gaze to the side, afraid of the old memory that had resurfaced against her will.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and turned to go.

Keladry's head snapped up. She quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back from the door. "No! Don't be upset. It's not what you think. I've just…" She sighed in frustration. "I've had a long day."

"Then I should probably let you rest."

"No, no. Stay," she pleaded softly, feeling like an absolute monster for the rejection that she was sure he was experiencing. Keladry led him to the couch and pushed him to sit. "I'll change out of this dress and we can order the movie on Pay-per-View. Just stay put."

A short while later, Keladry was almost dozing off in the SWAT member's arms with the background sounds of terrorized actors on screen fought off a psychotic killer with a machete. It had indeed been a very trying day, not just for her, but everyone she knew. Plans that had before seemed fool-proof were now under revision and who even knew what relationship problems Lerant and Yuki were going to get from this?

There was, however, one thing that Keladry was sure of. She was going to put her First Class salary to use again. There was absolutely no question about it. Too many memories and complications. It just wasn't worth it!

 She had to get a new bridesmaid dress.

---------------------------

Dom could tell that Neal was a little miffed about being excluded from the wedding rehearsal dinner guest list. Initially, all the Riders had been given basic scripts of things to mention at a tiny get-together in order to give the illusion that Yuki had actually planned a wedding. Since Kel was going, Dom had thought to invite Neal so as to avoid snubbing the officer. The younger man was having such a difficult time lately with being "left out."

As it was, now that they had a real wedding to go through, Neal had to play a part. Qasim was given the job of calling Lerant while in the presence of Yuki's parents and making it seem as if their reservation for a certain hall had been unwittingly moved up. This way, they could get prepare for the false wedding, get it over with, and send her parents home. Neal, as did the others, now had real acting parts. Some of them, like Qasim, were now forced to relinquish their roles as 'friends' to pose as banquet hall owners or nameless ushers.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. You get a really cool part," Dom consoled.

"A cool part? Dom, I have to put gray hair dye on and whatever other disguise materials Fia has stashed in her kit. Like a… a beard or a mole or something."

"I thought you'd be honored to be posing as the minister marrying the couple," his elder godbrother said. He patted Neal on the shoulder. "You get to say the infamous lines. _We are gathered here today to witness the union of_—"

"You're not helping," Neal warned through gritted teeth.

Dom rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're still hung up about not hitting on Yuki while you still had the chance, are you? They're not _really_ getting married, Neal, or have you missed the whole concept of it being a _fake_ wedding?"

"Shut up."

"Okay. So you do have hang ups."

Neal abruptly got up from the table. He directly went to the refrigerator and retrieved a can of beer. Dom pressed his luck.

"Can I have one?" His eyes widened and his hands darted up to catch the beer can that was thrown straight at his head. "Hey now! Don't have that kind of attitude! You're still _in_ the wedding. I'd think you'd have been more offended if we'd left you out of the plans, the way you're always going about seeking sympathy for your loneliness."

"Shut up already! I said I'd do it!"

"Well then stop being a damn baby about it and act like a man!" Dom yelled back.

Neal popped the lid on his drink and took a large gulp. He wiped the cold perspiration from the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. He set the can down on the table and sat down again, straddling the chair backwards. Dom took a deep breath and nodded his head.

"That's a bit more like it."

"What does Kel think about all this?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?"

The younger man shrugged. "I did. She said something about being pissed off that she had to buy another dress. When I asked her why she didn't re-use the other one, she ignored me." He took another long gulp. "I bet the wedding plans reminds her of Joren."

"On a first name basis with the dearly departed, now are we?" Dom questioned sardonically.

"He's not _that_ departed."

"He's departed enough."

Another large sip. Dom hadn't even opened his and Neal's was probably half gone.

"You understand though, don't you?" Neal asked. "You and I are the only guys that really know him."

"Knew him," he corrected again.

There was a pause. Neal began speaking again, after efficiently finishing the rest of his can. Dom made a mental note to steal Neal's supply and hide it away from the man until he was in a better mood. "Dom, do you… Do you want him to come back?"

"Truthfully? No. I love the man like a prodigal brother, but things are better this way. You?"

Neal slumped over the edge of the table with a doleful expression. "Me neither."

---------------------------

It was a week and a half later and Keladry found herself in the center of the worst wedding she had ever imagined. They had pulled some strings and found their "wedding hall" to once again be the Shriner's lodge that had hosted Raoul's presidential welcoming banquet. Qasim and Prosper had spent a whole day disguising the outside of the building and setting up chairs and an altar inside.

There were very little decorations. Asides from a few plastic flowers surrounding the altar (it was really a dais from a local theatrical group, with a white wicker arch from a local garden club on top), the entire place seemed quite drab. There were very few rows of collapsible metal chairs because the guest list was so small. The Riders, Raoul included, were central to the entire farce. Then there came Buri, Flyndon, Ulliver, Wolset, and some of the other homicide detectives and bomb squad members to fill up space.

They had even been reduced to playing organ music on a CD. The entire cost of the would-be wedding hadn't been that much at all. Every member of the Riders had pitched in by calling in favors from various organizations around town, the Magnificent Marigolds Garden Club included (Seaver had once rescued a rare species of flower and had presented it to the MM's as a gift).

"Do I even have a cake?" Yuki murmured listlessly as Keladry pinned her veil to her hair.

"Yes. Fianola baked one last night. You know how surprisingly good she is at making desserts."

Yuki peered out from the makeshift dressing room. "How… how is Lerant?"

Keladry frowned. "I'll check." She picked up a walkie talkie from the table and held down the call button.

"This is Sierra Tango reporting in. Over," Seaver's voice came out, a little static covering up his voice since the walkie talkies were old and nearly obsolete.

"Hey, Seaver, this is Kel. How's Lerant?" she asked. She waited a bit, but received no response. She rolled her eyes and added, "Over."

"You know, Kel, you can at least _use_ the code talk. It's not like we're bending over backwards to communicate. Over."

She glared hard at the walkie talkie in front of her face. "Fine. Sierra Tango, how is our groom? Over."

"Do you think you could say: 'What is Groom's status?' Over."

"Seaver!"

"_Sierra Tango,_ please. And use the lingo! Over."

"Fine," Keladry grated out. "Sierra Tango, what is Groom's status? Over."

"Lima Echo is currently taking a piss. Can I say that? Is there some sort of code for—"

"Seaver! Get back on track! I want the two of you at the altar, waving to guests as they come in. Make sure Qasim hits the music on time and… and give Neal a minor sedative of some kind that will keep him lucid during the ceremony. I'm afraid he's going to have a melodramatic outburst."

"You want me to drug our minister? Over," Seaver's incredulous voice squeaked.

"You're good with medicine. I'm sure you can find something besides alcohol. Just do it."

"Roger! This is Sierra Tango, over and out!"

Keladry threw the walkie talkie to the floor in a rare burst of annoyance and withheld the urge to crush it with the heel of her shoe. Yuki looked on, slightly amused.

---------------------------

The time had come. Yuki's parents had arrived and had been ushered into the front row of guests. Qasim and Dom acted as ushers while Lerant and Seaver stood nervously at the altar where Neal (now sporting gray streaks, fake wrinkle lines, and a bristly mustache) was presiding. Qasim rushed towards the back of the room. He saw Keladry peek out of the place where they were waiting. She gave him the thumbs up. Without further ado, Qasim pressed the play button on the stereo. The pre-recorded organ music flowed out.

"Here comes the bride," Seaver distractedly sang in a low voice. Lerant discreetly kicked him in the heel to shut him up. Neal remained unperturbed. He actually appeared euphoric.

Fianola came first. Since they had no flower girl, Fianola was the one chosen to fling out flower petals she had picked in the local park that morning. She looked teary-eyed. Her lip was already trembling. When she had finished her walk down the aisle she wavered as she stood next to Prosper, who looked very concerned.

Keladry followed. She tried to smile as best she could for Yuki's parents to see. It was hard when she saw the emotionless Yamani masks that the Daiohmoru's presented. She caught Ulliver's eye and was glad to see the approval there. He had liked the soft purple dress she now wore even better than the old one. And for that, she gratefully had no qualms or lingering traces of guilt.

At last, Yuki stepped into the aisle. With a bouquet of pink roses clutched in her hands, she walked forward in the infamous step-pause march that brides had been doing for centuries. She kept her gaze focused ahead, not at Lerant, not at Neal, not even at her parents. She had slipped into something of a trance. When she reached the front, she appropriately stopped and turned to face her would-be groom. Both their faces were unreadable. Keladry hoped that her parents would just take it to be signs of nervousness, not apathy.

The music stopped. Neal smiled kindly at everyone in the room.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and to celebrate the sacred union of Yuki noh Daiohmoru and Lerant Eldorne…"

Fianola began sobbing in the background. Prosper turned scarlet red and put a comforting arm around the young woman as she loudly hiccupped and blubbered. Neal paused for a moment and waited for the outburst to at least decrease in volume. He cleared his throat and began again.

"The feeling of unity between Yuki and Lerant, which we here recognize and honor is an emotion that this couple has created out of selflessness and kindness. Their loyalty to one another is like none they have ever felt before."

When he paused an especially long time after this, Seaver worried if he had put a little too much of his diluted sedative into Neal's glass of water.

To his relief, Neal began again, smiling wider than before. Keladry raised one eyebrow in suspicion.

"They base these feelings on love, on mutual respect and acceptance. They base them on the reasonability of an open mind, and upon the strong belief that the wisdom and insights of a man and woman, which might falter separately, can endure and deepen together."

Fianola sobbed louder.

_Oh, she's never going to stop,_ Keladry thought morosely. _At least Neal sounds normal._

Seaver and Keladry came forward with the rings since they had no ring-bearer. Neal made a small speech about the symbolism of rings (she would never have expected him to be so poetic when he was drugged. His poetry was bad enough when he was chemical-free) and proceeded into the final part of the ceremony.

"Do you, Lerant Eldorne, take this…"

A loud snore caught her attention. _Please don't tell me that Raoul is dozing off! He's going to give us away!_

Keladry's fears were immediately put to rest when Buri sharply elbowed her colleague in the side. He sat up straight instantly, mid snore. The Kmir woman rolled her eyes and shot an apologetic look in her direction. Raoul had the humility to blush.

"…to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?"

_I never realized how many prepositional phrases were in this speech,_ she thought absently. Her feet were starting to hurt from standing in the heels for too long. She glanced toward Ulliver, who grinned at her. She allowed herself a small smile before returning her attention to the ceremony.

"…And do you, Yuki noh Daiohmoru, take this…"

Fianola had now officially collapsed into Prosper's arms, wailing. The longest standing member of the Riders nervously took a handkerchief from his pocket and brotherly held it up to her nose for her to blow in. She did, causing a few to turn heads and look at the loud, embarrassing spectacle.

Neal went on, unperturbed.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

If there was any one part of the ceremony that looked fake, Keladry would decide later, it was the part when Yuki and Lerant kissed. In her opinion, it had been so clear. She could see the tension between them. They both attempted to smile as they leaned toward each other, but one could see the anxiety and the reluctance in each their eyes. Keladry would have thought Yuki would have been more comfortable doing this with Lerant rather than Seaver. Now she realized that Yuki would have been better off with _anyone_ but the one person who mattered.

It was too close to the real thing. But it was fake. It was a tease to both persons involved. Would they ever go through the _real_ ceremony together? Or would their sorry excuse for a relationship just peter off into the realm of "the-one-I-did-that-thing-with-one-time"?

Keladry's heart fluttered achingly. She feared she might have to join Fianola on the crying bench soon.

The ending organ music played as Lerant and Yuki glided down the aisle and toward the waiting photographer outside in front of the limousine. Roald was the limo driver, of course. Lalasa stood by with a camera and a tripod.

She eyed Yuki's parents, who stood up gracefully and waited for the official wedding party to go down the aisle before they followed. She could not see them as she headed out the door, but she ran over to Lalasa to make sure she took the pictures quickly and got a few of the Daiohmoru's as well. They would need a lot of photographs to support the illusion. Real weddings would have full albums of pictures. She saw in retrospect that the fact that no guest had brought cameras could have been a tip off.

A few moments later, Keladry nearly jumped out of her skin when Keiji noh Daiohmoru tapped on her shoulder from behind. She turned around and bowed graciously to Yuki's father.

"I assume you are one of the master architects of this scheme?"

She cringed inwardly. On the outside, she continued to pose the model of innocence. "Scheme, sir?"

The man leaned in close so that he could whisper in her ear. "I know what this is, Ms. Mindelan. I just wanted to congratulate you and your friends on a fine job. I would never have known had I not been a play actor as a boy. I can tell when a man is wearing a fake mustache, having worn many in my youth as well."

_He means Neal…_ she thought, horrified.

Noting her pending distress, he calmed her. "Do not worry. I won't tell my wife. I understand that my daughter only wished to please us." He paused and made a little noise that she supposed was a sigh. "I only hope that she'll marry _someone_ someday. I would be proud and happy then." He smiled slightly. "In the meantime, I'll be sure to keep my wife from prying into their non-existent home life. You kids these days…"

He bowed to her and rejoined his wife where Lalasa was taking pictures.

Keladry hesitated for all of three seconds before taking off her uncomfortable heeled shoes and walking back into the church to sit down. She needed some time to think.

---------------------------

"My head hurts so much," Neal groaned into Keladry's couch cushion.

"Seaver, I thought I told you just to give him something to relax," she whispered fiercely.

The Rider shrugged. He nonchalantly acknowledged her as he let one of his pet snakes curl around his arm, causing Keladry to inch away. "It was so last minute. I didn't think mixing some vodka and Listerine would be a big deal. I mean, you saw him during the ceremony. You said _lucid_ and I definitely made him lucid."

Keladry snorted. "Just give him some absinthe next time, why don't you…"

"Absinthe?! Were you two _trying_ to kill me?" Neal cried.

"No. Of course not," Seaver laughed. "I mean, I think not." He caught Keladry's glare and stood up. "Um, come on, Neal. In absence of your father's medical advisory, I order you to bed right now." He extracted a bottle of aspirin from his pocket and placed it in Neal's hand. "And in the most clichéd of clichés, take two of these and call me in the morning."

Neal swiped at him with a fist, but Seaver jumped back before the blow could land.

"Help him to his bed, please," Keladry asked, too exhausted to deal with either man.

Seaver reached down and slung one of Neal's arm over his shoulder. They stumbled to the door, which was already opening. Ulliver was entering with a bag of wedding food in his hands, a fourth of Fianola's scrumptious cake included. He stepped to the side as the pair went past.

"What happened to Neal?" he asked as he put the bag down on the counter and began to empty the Tupperware contents.

She stretched out her body on the couch and moaned. "Don't ask."

After a few moments, she felt the couch cushion lower at the opposite end where Ulliver had chosen to sit down. She opened her eyes and watched him peacefully. One by one, the SWAT captain removed his shoes and began to stretch out beside her. She silently moved to accommodate him room.

"What's the final report?" she asked quietly.

Lerant unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and set it on the floor beside them. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. "Roald says he dropped them off at one of the nice four-star hotels downtown."

She yawned sleepily and nestled her face into the crook of her arm. "And who called in that favor?"

"Buri, I think."

"I'll send a Thank You card," Keladry thought aloud. "That's the thing about this wedding. The only real things are the cards and the dresses."

He ran his thumb down the shoulder strap of her dress. "It is a nice dress."

"Uh-huh." Keladry closed her eyes and exhaled deeply.

Ulliver leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He whispered, "Do you want me to carry you to bed?"

"No. That's okay. I was going to get up and put the food away. You just go downstairs. I'll be fine."

He peered at her intently. "You sure?"

"Yeah." She opened her eyes again and made a shooing motion. "Go sleep. You've been a big help."

"You're the one who pulled it all off," he teased and kissed her again, this time on the lips. He slid off the couch and straightened his clothing. "Alright. Goodnight."

"'Night," she murmured.

As he headed toward the door, Keladry suddenly sat up. "Ulliver!"

"Yeah?"

She brushed some of her bangs from her face. "Do you think Yuki and Lerant are going to be okay?"

Scratching the back of his head, he continued to back away towards the door. "Sure they are. They have obstacles. We have obstacles."

"Yeah, but what if it doesn't work out…for them?" she added as a hasty afterthought.

He pressed the button that slid open the door. Ulliver looked away. "If it doesn't, then they'll have a lot of good memories at least."

Keladry blinked. "Oh. Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Kel."

When the door had closed, Keladry got up and went to her kitchenette. She placed most of the food into her refrigerator. She fell into a trance, something like what Yuki had done earlier that day. As her hands were performing the task, she let her mind wander far off the path of safety—down the road with the crooked sign.

Yes. At least she had good memories.

_"The blue… It's faded from your eyes. It's like… shades of gray," she murmured._

_"You're right about what you said," he told her in a way that felt like they were sharing a dear secret that no one else could ever know._

_"I am?"_

_His lips formed a bittersweet smile. "I have nothing to lose because there is nothing in me to be lost." He leaned forward to further concrete the confidentiality of their secret. "It's already empty inside."_

_Keladry hesitantly brushed his cheek with her fingertips. She laughed nervously with tears in her eyes when he reached up and held her hand there. Her heart was beating a million times a minute, and her stomach was fluttery, like butterflies had taken flight there. _

_Joren__ could not help but laugh a little, too. The moisture in his eyes almost restored the color in his irises, but Keladry saw that it was still a little dark. She took a deep shuddering breath._

_"Well then," she whispered. "If you're empty, then we'll just have to fill you up with all new things. Better things. A chance to start over."_

_"Can it be done?" he frowned._

_"We'll just have to see, won't we?"_

_He nodded. And though neither of them could explain it… that felt right, too._

---------------------------

Author's notes:

Oy. It's May 16, 2004 and it's 11:48 pm. I graduate tomorrow night at 7 pm, so I'm not going to bother to edit this. I'M GRADUATING! FINALLY! Which means a whole new world of freedom like none I have ever experienced… Yeah, okay, so that was a bit overdramatic. I'm going to sleep now, kiddies, so enjoy the episode.

Next time:

True friends are irreplaceable, incredible, undeceiving, unselfish, and… unforgettable.


	5. Best Friend, Part II

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 5: Best Friend, Part II**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: R for the hard trials of life. Some cursing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: because fanfiction.net and Microsoft Word refuse to cooperate, the formatting of this document is going to be a little crappy. This is the first time in 4 years that this has happened to me and my routine for typing and uploading has not changed ONE BIT, so I'm a little peeved and if anyone asks me again about the format at the end of the chapter, then I'm going to go INSANE.

From now on, things in italics (like thoughts) are going in single quotes '' and emphasized words will be surrounded by underscores. Grr.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ulliver watched the room around him with very little interest. He was having lunch by himself that day. He'd had lunch nearly every other day with Keladry for some many weeks now. They both figured that it was high time they start visiting their friends, who by then might have filed missing person reports just out of spite.

To his dismay, Wolset and his other buddies from the station were still on duty, so the major found himself sitting at the pool hall alone. Ulliver ordered a club sandwich and settled in for a peaceful lunch hour. However, a familiar face in the room caused him to put his meal down and stand up.

_'It's Neal. Wonder if he wants some company?' _ Because as much as he was enjoying his rare solitude, Ulliver always tried to socialize with his girlfriend's loved ones. Some may have considered it sucking up, but he tended to see it as a long term investment. He never knew when their trust and loyalty would come in handy—just like it had when the Riders had pulled together and performed that fake marriage ceremony.

That had been quite a while ago. Yuki and Lerant were back to their old ways, though Neal expressed resentment now and then for being "put under the influence" during the ceremony to keep him from protesting. Everyone knew he had a soft spot for Yuki still, but no one dared to mention it out loud (the exception being Dom, who since that time has had many beer cans thrown at his head).

He was about to call out to the officer when the front door opened and Keladry walked in.

_'Hey! What's she doing here? Well, the three of us can have lunch together, I suppose.'_

He went forward in order to greet them. But Ulliver froze mid step when he suddenly noticed Keladry's red-rimmed eyes. She'd been crying. Quickly, he slid into an empty booth and peered over the top of the seat. He did not know what impulse made him hide, but he obeyed his instincts and watched cautiously.

"Neal…" she began shakily.

Her best friend bolted up from his chair and put his hands on her shoulders. He was the paradigm of concern. "What is it? What happened?"

"Neal, h-he… he came home last night."

_'No! Not now!'_

Ulliver felt as if someone had just sucker-punched him right in the face. He fell back on the seat, dazed. He stared at the table in front of him while his girlfriend and Neal continued to speak in distraught tones.

"He? Who's this 'he'?" Neal frantically cried.

Keladry choked back a sob. Ulliver had never seen her cry before and he had no wish to see her do so then. It broke his heart in half. No, it shattered it. Why did the gods deem it right for someone as kind and courageous as Keladry to cry? "You know who! He just… just rang my doorbell and I opened the door and, and… there he was."

"There he was?" the male officer echoed.

"Yes. He looked so lost and I couldn't help it, I just stood there staring. And Neal! He was there but he wasn't okay. He wasn't _okay_!"

Ulliver closed his eyes. That was it then.

_'Joren Stone has finally come home.'_

"What did you do then?"

"I put him to sleep. And I watched him sleep all night and I cried and thanked the gods that he'd come home."

"And where is he now?"

"He's still there. I left him there in my bed."

"You left him there?"

"I can't stay while he's there. Not without someone with me. I can't face him alone right now. After everything that's happened, I feel myself… paralyzed when he looks at me. He's been through so much and we don't have the right to look him in the eye—"

"Well, we're going to have to sometime. Here, come with me to the station. We'll figure this out." There was a pause. "Did he… did he say anything?"

Ulliver stood up from the booth right then. He couldn't listen to it anymore. He ducked behind a group of people leaving the pool hall, hiding himself from Keladry and Neal as he departed. The sandwich forgotten, Ulliver got onto his motorcycle. He had to see it himself. He had to see the blond himself and see for sure that it was over.

Love makes men do many things, Ulliver learned that night. That included walking into the lion's den to offer himself up like a sacrifice.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_'Why am I here?'_ He asked himself later when he stepped into his girlfriend's apartment. She'd given him the key code a while ago as a sign of trust. He'd done the same thing in return and then they had celebrated with an all-night movie fest on his couch featuring his favorite action movies.

He forced the memory away. Now was not the time. Memories were all that he was going to have very soon. He had to do this final thing. He had to see for himself the person who was going to take away all that he had worked so hard to achieve.

_'You saw it coming a mile away. You just didn't want it to be so soon,'_ he told himself bitterly.

The living room was dim. He felt like a burglar, come to steal Keladry's valuables. Hell, maybe he had. What other business did he have for being there? Certainly it wasn't to have a civil conversation with her new house guest.

He came there to die.

Ulliver rejected the strange idea at first, but he accepted it after a few moments. He had come to Keladry's home to die—emotionally speaking. After this, Ulliver wouldn't be able to romance another woman. He'd risked so much with Keladry, just as she'd risked so much with him. Women! They were too much for him to handle. What with understanding and not understanding… and backing off and saying to her "of course I understand" when he really, _really_ didn't. And probably never would.

The place was silent. He tiptoed across the carpet, making his way toward her bedroom. His heart had been pounding outside her apartment door, but he couldn't even hear his heartbeat anymore. Perhaps his heart had already stopped, his blood stopped pumping, his body ceased living. He already felt a little dead inside.

It explained his zombie-like death march to her bedroom. He'd never trespassed into her bedroom. She'd never told him that he could not enter that place, but he had just for some reason or another avoided going in. Perhaps he'd been waiting for the right _time_ to enter. That entrance would have been marked with sentimentality and a level up in their relationship.

And now they were going levels down. They were going where there _weren't_ any levels.

_'Stop thinking in frustrating metaphors.__ You're not like Neal,'_ he scolded himself yet again.

He tentatively touched her door and pushed it open.

…

…

…

The man in her bed was lying on his stomach, his face turned away. The shades were drawn over the windows, only a few weak sunbeams shining through despite it being bright noon outside. All the pillows were thrown on the floor. They appeared to have been gracelessly kicked off during the night. But the sheets were still on the bed. The sheets were tangled around the sleeper's legs in the same way that a swimmer's legs could get caught in seaweed while swimming in the ocean.

The sleeper, ironically enough, even looked like he had drowned. His hair was matted wet with sweat against his head. It must have been a rough, feverish night for him. A night filled with tormenting nightmares and silent screams.

Ulliver leaned against the dresser and watched him slumber.

An hour passed. Ulliver did not tear his gaze away.

At last, the sleeper decided to awake. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and sighing. He ran his fingers through his sticky hair, which had grown even longer and more unruly that Ulliver had seen it last. Then, he opened his eyes, saw Ulliver, and brushed his red bangs from his face.

"Hello," Cleon whispered.

Ulliver nodded his head. "Hello."

_'I am the architect of my own destruction,' _the major thought darkly. The sad part was, he didn't even feel any relief. Just a sense of delay.

"You're Ulliver, right?" the redhead croaked. He coughed. "I'm sorry. It's been a while. I think I met you at Mithran United when the banks were robbed."

The major nodded again, vigorously. He attempted to smile. "Right! Right, right, right… You're Cleon Kennan?"

"Yes."

With unfocused and dim eyes, he stared at Ulliver. Then, Cleon stood up. He wobbled on his feet a bit before walking to the window and peeking outside. Ulliver straightened and moved toward the door. "Can I get you a drink of water?"

"There's a bottle of rum in my knapsack," the newly awakened officer uttered gloomily.

Ulliver glanced at the foot of the bed. He knelt down and retrieved the bottle from the knapsack. He stood up and went to the door again. "I'll… I'll get a glass."

"Get two," Cleon ordered quietly. He glanced away from the window and met Ulliver's gaze. There was something in the dark green depths that unnerved the major. By reputation, the sharpshooter had been the biggest clown anyone had ever met. The man that stood before looked like he had spent his whole life digging graves. Cleon smiled faintly. "It just doesn't do to drink alone."

"Right…" he replied uncertainly, and did as he was told.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cleon had been waiting for a miracle. I didn't want to. I hated waiting anyway. You'd be surprised how impatient I could get, I just never showed it on the outside. I was too busy showing off my cool, witty exterior. Yeah, that's what I did. My friends went out and arrested bad guys. I simply made fun of them with my verbal sword, my quick tongue.

I didn't mind living like that. I'd had such a good life. Now, there's bound to be argument about that. Some people will tell you that my life was very painful and that I'd suffered too much for someone of my innate goodness, but that's a crock. So I had parents who didn't care and threw our fortune away. So I spent my childhood in a boarding school. So I joined a gang of thieves and ruled a small, old-fashioned port city with fear (they _were_ afraid, don't give me that look). So I… I watched a family die and I almost died with them—

I had resigned myself to die with them. I did not fight it when they strapped me to the chair and lined up the firing squad to aim for my heart. So really, by living this long, I've accomplished a lot. There's no reason to be sad. I should be counting my lucky stars.

Of course, Cleon didn't see it that way. There were a lot of "didn'ts" between us now that only served to widen the chasm. He was here. With me. But I was already on my way to the other side. I was setting foot on that bridge and I was burning it behind me.

He would do the same. He just didn't know it yet.

I woke up one morning, expecting Cleon in his usual spot. He liked to come in during the middle of the night and sleep on the foot of my bed with his head pillowed by one of the ones I'd push away in my slumber. I suppose he feared missing my… _moment_, as it were.

I couldn't remember how long ago Keladry and the others had left, but it didn't surprise me at all when I awoke that morning and discovered Cleon missing from his spot. Straddling a wrought iron chair, my new guest watched me with an unreadable expression.

"Well, Stone. Couldn't bear to be away from me, could you?"

He lifted his chin from the back of the chair and smirked. "To the point of fainting."

As big an asshole as he can be sometimes, he knew how to treat death. And I was very glad for it. I was comforted by his presence—I hate to admit—even more than by Cleon's presence. It was because Stone knew death. He knew death inside and out. He knew that giving me sympathetic, weepy looks like my friends would was what would piss me off. He knew that I'm not the type of person who seeks sentimental reminisces in photo albums.

Joren Stone knew death. And in doing so, knew me at this crossroads in life better than anyone else in the entire world. Even Cleon, the loveable goof.

I would never tell Cleon that, though. He doesn't need to know. Make sure you don't tell him.

"Moved out of the infirmary I see," Stone continued. "Get slapped by too many nurses for wandering hands?"

"I think you're mistaking me for Neal." That jerk. Ha. "I didn't want to spend anymore time in that place. Prince Yahiko was kind enough to move me to a guest room when I was strong enough to stay awake during the daylight hours. It's peaceful."

The blond snorted. "With Kennan around, I find that really doubtful."

"What about you?" I asked. "Why are you back?"

I must say, he tiptoed around the subject rather well. He actually did it in a very grandiose fashion. I was impressed. With half-lidded eyes, he turned his gaze toward the window and recited some prose from Old. "'The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,  
That ever I was born to set it right.'"

My brow creased accordingly. "Shakespeare?"

"I had to read something on the plane," he shrugged indifferently.

"Macbeth?"

"Hamlet."

I chuckled. "Figures you'd read a play where practically everyone dies."

"I thought it was a pretty and pleasant romp through the land of the sinister—very pretty. I mean, Ophelia goes insane and plays with flowers. If flowers coupled with insanity aren't pretty, I don't know what is," he said sarcastically. That damn smirk of his!

"Hmm." I pulled back my blankets and slowly moved my legs over the side of the bed. "Would you mind helping me to the veranda? I want some fresh air."

Stone betrayed no surprise, but I could tell he wasn't expecting the request. "I thought you were bed-ridden."

"I was. And I'm still going to die, mind you, it's just that the treatment I've been getting has slowed it down a lot. I've been able to regain some strength so that I can still move around just a bit."

The former operative came forward and let me brace myself against his arm. It didn't appear difficult for him. When I asked Cleon to help me, I always had the impression that my very touch burned him. If you do see Cleon, tell him that I did not mean to be the cause for his pain. I see now that I have irreparably changed the course of his life and he will not laugh so well when I am gone—tell him I did not mean for it to happen.

I did not mean to leave him.

We went out to the veranda of my luxurious guest suite. There was a chair outside with a cushion I had left out the night before. Stone eased me down here and perched himself on the stone edge. I bet he probably had thoughts of jumping over. If I'd lived a life like him, I'd probably think that all the time.

We sat there for a while until Cleon came with my breakfast. He set up a small tray table and carefully laid out my silverware and a glass of orange juice. He was very meticulous in every detail. I could see Stone's skeptical expression. I shot him one of my own looks to warn him to be nice to Cleon. I knew he was just _itching_ to poke fun at him.

"Can I get anything else for you?" Cleon asked attentively.

"Caviar," Stone inserted, smiling crookedly.

Cleon glared at him. "Oh, Stone. Forgot you were here." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. "What's-his-face… Kel's ex boyfriend… wants to talk to you."

"Oh, joy of joys," Stone intoned listlessly. As he made his way back into the room, he glanced back at me and winked. "If you die before I see you again, tell the gods that letting man invent reality TV was a really bad move."

Ha. That wanker. I miss him.

Cleon didn't think it was so funny. He rolled his eyes and sat across from me on the veranda floor. He was wearing a burgundy tunic with dark grey pants. There was a fine, golden threaded mantle across his shoulders. Though he'd relinquished his crown when the Black City had fallen, they'd insisted that he keep some regal marking. Everything we had now was given to us by Prince Yahiko. The silvery-headed boy was very hospitable. I think it's because he liked to listen to Cleon tell stories of Mithros.

I wonder if Enishi Yukishiro ever told his nephew about what _he_ did in Mithros?

Yes, about that. At that moment, the king was still comatose after the last bout with the dragon and the war with the Black City. I'm sure he'll make a complete recovery. Not like me.

"How are you feeling today?" my best friend asked me.

I shrugged and lifted a piece of scrambled egg to my mouth. "As good as yesterday, I suppose. There's not really any change." I changed the subject. "I'd like to go to the garden today."

Just as I expected, he protested. "It's too far! You shouldn't go that far from your room, Fal."

"As long as I'm still alive, I'll do as I please, my good man. And I want to see the bloody gardens today!" I calmed down. "If you want, we can invite Yahiko along. He's taken a liking to you."

Cleon never fought me for long. I felt bad for exploiting that, but I really did want to go to the gardens. I wasn't going to be around for much longer, and I wasn't going to be cooped up like some contagious victim of the Bubonic Plague.

…

The days passed so quickly.

It made everything—and I mean, _everything_—seem more vivid than I knew it really was. The colors of the orchids in the garden. The cherry blossoms with that particular pink—much like the nose of a newborn kitten. Each shadow of each leaf on a giant tree seemed to move with such distinction that I was awed by its motion… something so complex, blending together to form one organism of beauty. To stand at my veranda, looking out over the plains as the wind blew the grass, I felt like I was staring at a green sea with waves that rippled on and on forever.

_'Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.'_

I would gaze at the snowy mountains sometimes, the ones that surrounded the valley. They looked like sentinels to me. Ancient guardians. Over breakfast, I would make up conversations that one mountain would have with another. How they complained of avalanches the same way we would complain about dandruff. How they all envied the great Enishijirou because so great a city had made its home within it. How they wondered when Eternity would finally end, so they could lie down flat and rest.

I never wanted Eternity. But I was glad that the mountains would have it. They seemed like nice people.

One day, Yahiko ran into the room shouting that his uncle was awake. Cleon and I were playing chess at the time, but we abandoned the game and went down to see the monarch. They had made a wheel chair for me out of wicker and iron. After much reluctance on Cleon's part (he was so much like a mother hen those days), a mage levitated me down the stairs.

We entered the king's chambers, where Yahiko, Liam, and Stone already were. They were standing around the humongous bed where Enishi sat, much as I had for weeks, with his back propped up against a mound of silk pillows.

I was the only one in the room not standing up. His attention was immediately drawn to me.

"Ah, Master Faleron. "You're a king as well, are you not?"

I nodded congenially. "Yes, Your Majesty. My surname is King."

"Then from one king to another, I hope your stay thus far has been as comfortable as possible."

"It has," I assured him. "Thank you very much."

He was a scary man sometimes. I remember hearing stories about him in Tusaine. He'd had so much power back there. Deadly power. But he'd also had this kingdom back here. I had my own suspicions on why he'd traverse between the two, but who was I to raise a ruckus by asking? Besides, all of life's greatest mysteries are explained in death. I'd know the answer soon enough.

After a week, I saw the king again before he went on one of his journeys. This time, Stone went with him. Liam appeared irritated by the king's decision to have Stone accompany him instead of him, but Yahiko felt more annoyed because the prince had never even left the kingdom. Once again, the king would journey abroad. This time, Yahiko would not rule as regent while he was gone. Liam took the temporary title (and appeared even more irritated because of it).

I didn't know where they went. I didn't particularly care. But Stone did not say a formal goodbye. He was infamous for not saying goodbye. A maid told me later that the morning he left, he came in while I was still asleep. It had been in the darkness of pre-dawn that he'd watched me sleep for approximately half an hour before getting up, putting on his jacket, and leaving with Enishi.

Cleon, for all his pretense about despising Stone's presence in Enishijirou, was extremely disappointed that Stone had not come by to say goodbye to him. I chose to neglect mentioning Stone's early morning visit. No sense in making Grasshopper feel more unpopular.

"Fal."

"Yes?"

"The doctors. They say you'll have to stop walking altogether now. You don't have the energy for it."

I looked up from where I had just moved my rook two spaces forward. "Well then, I have more of an excuse to get levitated down the stairs, don't I? You should try it sometime. It's quite fun."

He began crying then out of nowhere. I was so accustomed to seeing him laugh and make horrible jokes, and now just acting like my worried mother, that this really stirred me out of my morbid resignation. I pushed the chessboard aside and rested my hand on his shoulder. His body was shaking with sobs.

"Come now, good fellow. There's no need for that."

"B-but…"

"But nothing. Take me to the gardens. We'll have a talk there, where the air smells nice from the blooms."

Yes. If you see him on the street, dear witnesses, or if you see him in a store bending over gray fedoras, tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I never meant to leave. That's just the way things turned out. Hug him. Urge him to tell a joke. Tell him all the things that will never make it okay, but will ease the pain. He is such a good person and he cannot stand to be alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had been a long time since Stone had left and a longer time since our other friends had left. I hadn't cried since that day that Fal and I talked in the garden. We talked about… things. Things I didn't want to admit to. Things I didn't want to give in to. I'm a stubborn guy, I guess.

Lately, he'd been getting worse. Fal was now so weak that he couldn't leave his bed. I barely left his room. I moved into his guest room with him. To avoid leaving his side, I asked Yahiko for a few servants to deliver our meals and collect the laundry. Every time I still had to leave him, I always timed myself, counting seconds at the top of my lungs to make sure he heard and knew I was coming back.

At night, I would think about all the good times we've had. I'd laugh to myself while remembering Lalasa, yelling "You three stooges!" at us and Roald. I'd remember how the first time we had met, Keladry's underwear had been stolen and I'd almost shot Fal because he'd annoyed the hell outta me. He'd stolen my guns, after all.

Every now and then, I thought about Kalasin. And though my thoughts would linger upon her beautiful face and her invincible spirit, I would suddenly remember that it was Fal's advice that had won her over to me.

I owed everything to him.

"Cleon," Fal whispered. It was a couple of hours until dawn, but I was already awake. I sat up from the foot of the large bed and scooted over so I could hear him better. His breathing was shallow and his eyes were open just a slit to see me.

"Yes? What is it? What do you need?" I asked anxiously.

He shook his head. He lifted a pale hand and beckoned me to come closer. I lied down and crawled even closer. Why did he have to look so ghostlike? '_He's not gone yet! Let the dude go out with color in his cheeks and the vitality to grin!  He can barely open his eyes, you bastards…'_

I didn't know who I was yelling at. Resting my chin against his shoulder, I gazed at him patiently, waiting for him to speak again. He spoke so rarely these days. I was glad to hear his voice. It didn't sound like him, but I _knew_ it was him. So that's all that mattered.

"Cleon, tell…" he wheezed. "Tell them… I wasn't in any pain." His eyes widened as he coughed suddenly. I could feel his thin frame shake. Man, I thought he was going to shake himself right to pieces. I put my hand on his forearm and he continued talking. "Tell Merric that I had an adventure with my friends. I w… wanted to see him graduate so badly."

"I will," I assured him quietly. "You should go back to sleep now."

Again, he shook his head. I felt a deep weight settle in the bottom of my gut, created by the foreboding expression on his face. I held onto his arm a little tighter. I wasn't going to let him slip away. The gods are sorely mistaken if they think I'm going to let them take him away!

"Cleon, let go," he said, his voice a little stronger than before. I hated his bravery. _Hated_ it.

"No, please," I pleaded desperately.

His shook his arm free of mine. Seeing my hurt expression, he turned his head and pressed his lips against the top of my head. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to cry. His hand groped for mine and squeezed it with his remaining strength. No witty, theatrical words of wisdom this time. How like him to leave in a way that was… contrary to what everyone would expect.

Faleron King, dying quietly without any memorable last words to mark his time in the world. My best friend.

"I love you, too," I muttered, already knowing it fell upon deaf ears.

_Hanging on_

_Here until I'm gone_

_Right where I belong_

_Just hanging on_

_Even though_

_I watched you come and go_

_How was I to know_

_You'd steal the show_

_One day I'll have enough to gamble_

_I'll wait to hear your final call_

_Hanging on_

_Hanging on_

_Here until I'm gone_

_Right where I belong_

_Just hanging on_

_Even though_

_Passed the time alone_

_Soon we're so unknown_

_It heals the soul_

_You'll ask for walls, I'll build them higher_

_We'll light the shadows of them all_

_I'd stand but they're much too tall_

_And I fall_

_February stars_

_Floating in the dark_

_Temporary scars_

_February stars…_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Keladry came back to her apartment a couple of hours since the time she had left. Now she was accompanied by Neal, Dom, and Prosper. The three men appeared to be very reluctant to go, but they followed her single file and remained silent. They all knew what Cleon's return home meant. The problem was that no one wanted to say it.

They entered the bedroom and stood completely flabbergasted at what they saw.

Cleon, hair tousled from sleep, was pouring another glass of rum. He leaned shoulder to shoulder with Ulliver, who seemed pale. He looked up at his girlfriend in a way that told her that he didn't recognize her. Cleon, however, did not have this incoherence and made to stand up.

"Hello. Would you… like some?" he asked, holding out the glass.

Keladry opened her mouth to scold him outright, but Neal beat her to it. He walked forward, took the glass, and downed it all in one long, extended gulp. Dom rolled his eyes.

"Great. Three boozers to baby-sit. Give me that, you dumbass!" he yelled, grabbing the bottle of rum from Cleon. He muttered more curses as he went into Keladry's bathroom and began to pour out the rest of the bottle's contents into the sink. He spied an already empty bottle in the waste basket. He groaned. "You two…"

"Ulliver!" Keladry exclaimed indignantly.

The major had the decency to look ashamed. "He asked me and I couldn't just say no. Look at him, Kel."

Dom snorted. He walked back into the bedroom and put his hands on his hips, livid with rage. "Well, I don't care. That's not the way to deal with your problems. Not for day son end, Cleon. You're the last person I expected this from."

"I wouldn't say just days," Cleon mumbled. He yawned and lied down on the floor, using Ulliver's knee as a pillow. The SWAT major was still too affected to notice or care.

Prosper, who had remained silent until then, scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Kel, I'll just go see Fia. She should probably know… you know."

He left quickly, probably embarrassed for Ulliver and Cleon. He had a larger problem to worry about anyhow. Keladry did not envy the Rider the task of telling Fia about her boyfriend. The wedding had been bad enough. Fianola had not stopped crying for hours afterward. With only Prosper free to comfort her, she had probably still felt so lonely. Lonely for the one person who she wanted to be with, anyway.

"Dom, can you do me a favor and contact Kalasin? Tell her that Cleon's home?" she asked. "I'll call up Roald and Lalasa myself."

By this time, Neal had joined Ulliver and Cleon in their little sedated pile of alcohol smelling limbs on the floor. He wasn't drunk, but he felt like he was. And just seeing Cleon—once a person guaranteed to be on a constant sugar-high—looking miserable and worse for wear was enough to make him feel the dismal effects.

He perked up a bit when he heard Roald's name. "Oh, you won't be able to reach either of them."

"What do you mean?" Keladry frowned.

"I got a page from them on the way over here, but you were too busy driving and trembling so I didn't tell you. Lalasa went into labor an hour ago. They're at the hospital."

'_By Glory, the people in my life…'_ Keladry thought with some restrained frustration. She pinched the bridge of her nose as a sign of stress and knelt down beside the three men. She began to haul Neal up by the arm. With Dom's help, she hauled them onto her bed and tucked them in. None of them protested, but went straight to sleep.

Dom called Kalasin and bade her to come to Tusaine. Keladry could hear him speaking to her as she lied down on her couch, curled up into a ball. Since Cleon had come home, she'd been trembling. She'd been shaking and she couldn't stop it, no matter how hard she tried. Yes, she'd experienced loss before.

She'd lost Conal. She'd lost lots of people. And the gods knew she had seen death. She'd seen people killed and she'd killed as well—in the line of duty. But at once she knew that Faleron's death meant more to her than her own brother's. She felt incredibly guilty for that feeling. Faleron was a really good friend, but he wasn't her brother. Why did this hurt so much more?

'_Because you were there when they hurt him.__ You had frozen in place and you could have done something to stop it, but didn't move fast enough. You… could have…'_ her thoughts trailed off there. Yes. She could have been the one to take that cross bolt to the ribs and die.

Were the gods so random?

She woke up hours later. The room was dim and it was dusk outside. Before she even opened her eyes she could hear Dom and Neal speaking in her bedroom. Cleon was probably still asleep. She sighed.

A man's hand gently brushed her bangs from her face. She opened her eyes and looked up to the hand's owner. Ulliver's face greeted her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She started to sit, taking a deep breath. "No, that's okay. I understand."

"Good," he chuckled lightly. "Because I don't."

Keladry leaned forward and put her arms around his shoulders. She pressed her face against his sweet-smelling neck (he must have washed off the scent of alcohol with her very own bath soap, because he smelled exactly like her). Ulliver reached up and stroked her hair.

"Roald called not too long ago."

She pulled away from him to look into his eyes. "And?"

"And they have a boy. They named him Faleron."

And at once, Keladry had a craving for Lucky Charms with powdered sugar sprinkled on top.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's note:

I wrote this episode in the span of two days. Part of it before my graduation, and part of it after. It was strange, having the sudden urge to type this. You'd think in the midst of celebration that I would find something more upbeat to write, but then again, the episodes' scheme was planned out already.

Anyway, the song is "February Stars" by the Foo Fighters. They're my favorite band.

I don't know when the writing bug will bite me again. Now that I'm graduated though, I imagine that the next episodes are going to follow each other pretty quickly.

And I know. I'm going to miss Faleron, too. Unfortunately, these things happen and one cannot dictate stories anymore the same way that one cannot dictate life. Some things are beyond even my control. Like I've said many times before, the story has taken a life of its own. It tends to do as it wishes.

Thanks for reading, everyone. I'd like to hear what you think, so remember to review or email me.

Next time: Everyone goes to see the new baby, a bright beacon in a sea of miserable faces.


	6. Baby, Baby

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 6: Baby, Baby**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13 for habitual cursing. Otherwise, I think the episode would be PG.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Here," Neal said. "I got you some orange juice."

Cleon looked up from the newspaper. He took the glass silently, nodding his head in thanks. Neal peered over his shoulder at the page of the newspaper he was reading. He would have expected to see the cartoon section but instead found himself staring straight at the front page, where all the serious articles were printed.

"Can I get anything else for you?" he asked nervously. Who _was_ this stranger?

"No. If I need something, I'll get it myself."

Neal straightened up and placed his hands in his pockets. "Oh. Alright then." He turned to go, but something flashed in his memory. "By the way, we're going to see Roald, Lalasa, and the baby today around lunchtime. Is that ok with you? Do you want to go?"

The redhead nodded. "Yes, it's fine. And Neal?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't talk to me like you don't know me. I'm still Cleon." He smiled faintly, and then returned to reading the newspaper.

_That was weird…_ Neal thought, scratching his head as he left Keladry's kitchen.

After the three men sleeping off hangovers in Keladry's bed woke up, it went unspoken that Cleon would stay with Keladry for a few days, just until they got his own apartment back. During the time that Cleon had gone, they'd finally put his personal belongings in boxes and into storage with Joren's things. Stefan had not rented out the apartment to anyone yet, so it was only a matter of getting the furniture back in.

Also during that time, Prosper had worked up enough courage to see Fianola and give her the bad news. No one knew what happened after that. They could not hear any cries or sobs from behind her door. All that they did know was that Prosper had not left yet. Neal suspected that Fianola had gone into a dead faint. He considered her lucky to have such a brother-figure like Prosper around to watch over her.

Keladry had gone ahead to see their friends in the hospital. Dom and Neal were waiting for Cleon to finish breakfast so they could follow her. Neither man had any idea how to speak to the sharpshooter. Since he'd been awake, he'd been a completely different person. It was frightening, to say the least. Cleon had not cracked one corny joke the entire time he had been home, nor had he laughed.

He _did_ smile sometimes. But the smiles were empty. They were reflex.

"He's reading the newspaper," Neal told Dom, who was watching the Holoscreen in the living room.

Dom tapped his foot impatiently. "Well, tell him he can look at the cartoons in the car. It's been almost an hour."

"He's not looking at the cartoons. I think he's trying to finish the article on third world political instabilities," Neal informed, feeling much like he was in an alternate universe as he spoke the words.

Dom blinked. "Oh."

So they waited.

At last, they got into one of the Riders' Own vans and drove to the hospital. Neal watched Cleon critically. He'd not noticed until then the strange clothing the Cleon was wearing. They were the same type of garments the people of Enishijirou wore. He thought absently that the tunic looked good on Cleon. It made him look more adult than he acted sometimes (not that adult behavior was something that he lacked at that moment).

He paused before speaking. "So how were the wolves?"

"They were fine. I saw Borealize a few times, but he was always busy running the First District."

"Right." Neal pouted. "Then… how was… Joren?"

Cleon's eyes darted from the window he'd been looking out of to Neal's face. He studied him carefully. "How did you know he was there?"

"I was the one who helped him leave," he replied.

"Oh. Well, he didn't stay that long. He left again with Yukishiro."

"So he woke up?"

"Yes."

The conversation had gone stale. Neal cleared his throat and turned around in his seat. Dom cast a sidelong glance at his god brother and decided it wasn't worth the trouble to restart any talking. Cleon returned to his window observation. The rest of the drive was conducted in silence.

When they got to the hospital, Keladry was holding the baby at Lalasa's bedside. Roald was sitting on the bed with Lalasa, hugging his wife around the shoulders with one arm. They looked up when the three men entered the recovery wing, huge smiles on all their faces.

"It is… so _good_ to see you," Roald said at once. Unlike the rest of them who had seen Cleon last at Enishijirou, the married couple had not seen him since before he left Tusaine. The new father stood up and circled around the bed to enfold his fellow "stooge" in a large hug.

Cleon patted his back. "You, too." He stepped back and turned his head. "Now where's this mini-Fal that I keep hearing so much about?"

Neal and Dom exchanged worried glances. They had been afraid of Cleon's reaction to the baby would be, considering his name and the timing of his birth. They watched apprehensively as Keladry gently handed the baby to him. Lalasa grinned proudly.

Cleon sat on the edge of the bed, gazing quietly at the baby boy. Little Faleron was starting to doze off; they could tell by the way his small mouth opened in a yawn.

"Did you ever think you were going to be a father when you ran away two and a half years ago?" he asked Roald.

"Honestly, no. I wasn't expecting to even have a stable job or a home back then." The Vice President's son chuckled. "Has it only been that short a time? I could have sworn it'd been five years the way things carry on around here." He sighed. "Anyway, Cleon, Lalasa and I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure. Shoot."

Neal, Dom, and Keladry visibly winced at the word choice.

"Will you be his godfather?"

The sharpshooter looked down at the sleeping baby and smiled. "Yeah. No problem. Though, I think it's kind of unnecessary. I'll be his uncle eventually if Kalasin doesn't kill me first."

Roald nodded. He almost inconspicuously bristled about the comment of his sister. He still couldn't imagine being in-laws with Cleon, no matter how good a friend he was. But surely things would be different now that Cleon had returned. _Different_, at least. "Good. You'll be glad to know she's flying in a few days from now from Tortall."

"Great."

Keladry stood up from her chair and walked over to Neal, whispering in his ear. Cleon pretended not to notice, but it was obvious that she was asking how Cleon had been acting since he'd woken up. Though it was a little frustrating at first, he knew they only meant well. They were worried about him. It was only the ties of friendship that made their brows crease and their lips curl down in pouts.

The next day, Lalasa and Faleron Jasson were released from the hospital. Both mother and son were as healthy as could be. Their friends greeted the new family at their apartment, bringing balloons and belated baby shower gifts. Since the majority of them had been in the Eastern Yamani mountains during Lalasa's pregnancy, they had not been around for the normal celebrations. Even some people that the couple vaguely knew showed up, bringing congratulations and gifts.

Daine and Numair were there as well, bringing with them a brand new baby crib that was painted sky blue. Star plushies hung over the crib and spun around slowly while a "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" played in the background. It was a new parent's dream. Lalasa's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"It's beautiful!" she gasped. Her hand fluttered over her mouth in shock.

Her employer came forward, handing her a gift bag. "I'd like Faleron to have this, too. My friend thought he would like this."

Lalasa beckoned her husband over, who was holding the baby. She opened the bag and picked up a small stuffed dragon with shiny fabric and stitching to resemble scales. Little Faleron made happy gurgling sounds. She brought the toy in reach for his tiny hands to touch. He continued to make delighted sounds, bringing wide grins to both his parents' faces.

"The tag says the toy's name is Kitten. How cute!" Lalasa gushed. "Thank you so much, Daine! He loves it!"

"Our pleasure. Really. Congratulations!"

Everyone in the apartment started to bustle around, getting food out and bringing in more presents for the occasion. Keladry and Ulliver were about to give their present when Lalasa stood up and gasped. Roald was gently rocking Faleron when he looked up and gave his wife a questioning look.

"My ring! I left my ring at the hospital!"

"Your ring?" Numair asked, frowning.

Roald handed the baby to Cleon as he stood up to calm his wife. "She took it off during the last two months because it wasn't fitting. She put it on a gold chain around her neck." He kissed Lalasa's knuckles. "Did you take it off at the hospital?"

"Yes, I think it was on the bedside table in the recovery wing," she answered. "Oh, Roald! My ring!"

"Don't worry," Neal piped up. "We'll get it. Come on, Roald."

Keladry quickly glanced out the window. "Wait, I'm the only one not blocked in down there. I'll drive." She turned to Ulliver. "Do you mind?"

"No, of course not. I'll see you in a bit," he said, kissing her on the cheek. She smiled and retrieved her keys from the kitchen counter.

The three friends headed out the door with the mission of recovering Lalasa's wedding ring. Daine managed to calm Lalasa down and had her sit on the couch while the rest of the small party's guests waited on mother and baby like servants. Keladry smiled at the sight as she closed the door behind her.

 They hopped into the squad car that Keladry was driving and headed toward the hospital. They were all gasping for breath just a bit, seeing as how they'd ran down the hall and from the elevator to the parking lot as well. Roald glanced at both his friends curiously from shotgun.

"You know, you didn't _all_ have to come with me."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Neal snorted.

"You just wanted to get away from Cleon, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Keladry and Neal confessed in unison.

Roald shook his head. "I know he's different now, but honestly—"

"It's downright _scary_, Roald. He's freaking me out!" Neal exclaimed. "I mean, don't get us wrong. We still love 'im like always, but it's just weird to be around him. He'll grieve in his own way and we'll grieve in ours."

Keladry more or less concentrated on driving, but after a few minutes when they pulled into the hospital parking lot, she spoke her mind. "When do you think would it okay to ask him about it? We haven't really said anything out loud. Cleon's simply being here has been all the indication so far. I… want to _know_."

"I think when he laughs again. Really laughs. I know I'm not going to ask him until then," Neal replied.

They entered the hospital with similarly dejected spirits. They all knew that Cleon might never laugh again. And silently, they knew that they didn't consider it a selfish action on his part. Cleon had more right to the information he knew than all of them combined. After all, he had been the one to stay behind. He had been Faleron's best friend. They would wait for Cleon to tell them. And if he never did, that would be fine, too.

Roald led them straight up to the room Lalasa had been put in after the birth. The room was empty, the bed sheets and pillows even taken to be washed. Roald checked the bedside table, the drawers, and even beneath the bed for any signs of his wife's wedding band.

A nurse passed by the room. She peeked in and saw the three friends there. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, we're looking for my wife's ring. She left it here this morning," Roald answered.

She stepped inside the room and sighed. "You might want to check at the desk. They might know something about a ring."

They followed her advice. Roald led the group to the front nurse's station inside the Maternity Ward and waited patiently for some assistance. Finally, an intern rolled toward them in his office chair. He looked up at them expectantly. "Yes?"

"We're looking for my wife's ring. She thinks she left it in her recovery room."

The intern nodded. "One of the staff did turn in a ring to the desk this morning. I think a doctor had another patient who said she'd lost hers, so he took it with the intention of giving it to her."

"Well, it's not hers!" Neal protested.

Keladry elbowed him. "Yes, we know that, Neal." She turned to the intern. "Can we find out where this doctor is?"

"I believe Dr. Griffin is at the end of the hall. He's tall, has a hawkish nose and large hands. Good luck."

"Thanks!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lalasa shifted on her seat. "Cleon, would you mind holding him? I'd like to get something to eat."

"Sure. No problem." He held his arms out to receive the infant. When he took him into his arms, Lalasa made an awed sound and impulsively kissed Cleon on the cheek.

"Sorry. Couldn't help it. I know we haven't spent a lot of time together since we moved to Tusaine, but I really did miss you." She cooed at her baby. "And the two of you look so cute!"

Cleon blushed faintly. "Thanks, 'Lasa."

She got up from the couch and looked down fondly at him. "You know, Kalasin missed you, too. She visited quite a few times while you were gone."

He didn't reply. She nervously cleared her throat and giggled to hide her confusion at his lack of response. Lalasa went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Ulliver was sitting on the armchair across from Cleon. He watched the redhead with interest. Since their drunken encounter, he wasn't sure how to approach him. He looked around uncomfortably at the other guests.

Numair and Daine were busy talking to each other (perhaps making plans for a baby of their own, if they ever got around to tying the knot and qualifying tabloid rumors). The oddly authoritarian trio, Raoul, Buri, and Flyndon were also stuck in their own little world, probably talking about a fugitive as they were apt to do, even when off duty.

There were a few people he did not know that probably worked for Daine at her main office downtown. They appeared friendly enough, but he did not know how to start a conversation with them. He wished Wolset was there, or at least some of the Riders. Prosper had been unofficially branded as Fianola's caretaker. Lerant and Yuki were still sorting out their private problems and had more or less cut off contact with the rest of the world in order to concentrate on themselves.

However, Qasim, Dom, and Seaver had all promised to come later. The Riders had become a fixed presence in their lives—"their" referring to Keladry and the rest of the Roger-fighting group who had traveled as fugitives themselves when wrongly accused. He knew that those bonds were hard to break. Ulliver had no wish to intrude upon them, but it still felt awkward to be left out of an inside joke that no one ever spoke aloud.

The COM screen rang. Ulliver jumped up. "I'll get it!"

He turned on the screen and looked to see who was calling. The digital picture of Qasim seemed apologetic.

"Seaver's poison arrow frog escaped. We're looking for it. We'll be even later than we thought we would be."

"What's happened now?" Lalasa asked as she came up behind him.

Ulliver said goodbye to Qasim and terminated the connection. "One of Seaver's pets escaped. They'll be late."

"Amphibians and reptiles. Yuck," she stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Come on, Ulliver. Sit down with me and tell me how things are going with you and Keladry."

The major shrugged, but she could tell he was hiding his pink cheeks. "What is there to say? I really like her."

Cleon heard the last part of his sentence as they sat down beside him. Lalasa sipped from her cup before making a funny face at her baby. Little Faleron watched his mother almost instinctually. Lalasa giggled and leaned back. Cleon shifted him around in his arms, careful to support his head.

"That's right. I've been gone too long," Cleon muttered. He raised his voice a bit. "So, Ulliver! You'll have to pretend I've been under a rock for a few months. Are you and Kel dating?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah. We've been dating almost since she came back."

"That would explain why you were in her apartment. I was wondering through my haziness what you were doing there." Cleon frowned. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of _his_ Keladry dating just any guy that wasn't Joren. He really couldn't take Joren's attitude sometimes. And he hated how the blond influenced Keladry and made her cry.

But it seemed like they were meant to be. Now to hear that she'd been dating Ulliver almost since she'd been back—it was quite a shock. Joren must have left right away again for that to happen. Why _had_ the blond returned to Enishijirou? Was it for Faleron? That couldn't be right.

But what if it was? Were he and Faleron the cause for Joren and Keladry's break-up?

It was paranoid and quite unreasonable, but though Cleon found himself now a very serious and grave man, there was still enough room in him to be foolish. He made a mental note to ask Keladry what the whole deal was. He didn't want to offend Ulliver when they knew so little about each other.

The baby began to cry. Cleon frowned and gently rocked him.

"I think he needs a diaper change," Lalasa explained. "Must be. I fed him just a few minutes ago. Here, I'll take him."

Cleon handed the infant over thankfully. As attached as he was to his soon-to-be god son, he did not wish to have to endure that aspect of parenthood. He watched his friend walk away with her new baby into the bedroom. Faleron. Faleron Jasson.

_He's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen,_ he thought. _You would have liked him. Knowing your ego, you would have liked _anything_ named after you. _He smiled.

"Can I get you something to drink? Non-alcoholic, anyway? I don't think they have that here," Ulliver joked nervously.

The redhead had no reason not to like Ulliver. In fact, he thought the SWAT team leader was a very pleasant man. But the overlying fact that he was Joren's replacement irked him. He hid his displeasure and nodded. "Thanks. Some orange juice should be fine."

"Orange juice?"

"Don't worry, it'll be on the table. If Roald knew I was coming, he'll have gotten it out for me."

Confused, Ulliver simply nodded and went to the kitchen.

_He's a nice guy. And Keladry deserves a nice guy. Just not… Oh, curse it all. I should just look forward to Kalasin coming here._

Roald, Keladry, and Neal stumbled in four hours later, looking quite aggravated and exhausted. By this time, some of the party's guests had already departed, but the three missing Riders had arrived and were just starting to get into the swing of things. The Holoscreen was on and a high profile motorcycle race was taking place live.

Cleon was holding the baby again, leaving Lalasa free to go up to her husband. She surveyed him wonderingly. His hair was mussed and he looked like he'd been in the dirt and who knows where else.

"What _happened_?"

Keladry rubbed her shoulder, exchanging tired glances with Neal. Unlike her two male companions, she did not seem so dirty at all. Just a little scruffy, like she'd taken a hit or two that she hadn't seen coming. Neal looked worse for wear, just like Roald. There was actually a piece of trash in his wavy hair. He picked it out and groaned.

Roald fished into his pocket and produced his wife's ring. She accepted it and blew on it to get rid of the dirt granules.

"Hey!" Raoul waved the air in front of his nose. "What stinks? Sheesh! That reeks!"

Lalasa fixed her husband with a demanding eye. She could smell the stench just as badly.

"It's a long story," Roald told her. He glanced at himself, then his two companions. "If you don't mind, 'Lasa, we're going to wash up." He led them to the guest bathroom while he wandered into his bedroom into his own bathroom.

Lalasa was so surprised that she did not follow her husband for a few moments. She looked to Dom, who shrugged at her. She narrowed her eyes and walked into the bedroom with a determined look in her eyes.

She saw the light turn on in the bathroom behind a closed door. Lalasa went straight to the closet and picked out a new set of clothes for Roald. Then she marched into the bathroom.

"Roald! What happened?"

Her husband was stripping off clothing and crawling into the bath tub like he'd lost the strength in most of his limbs. Half naked and still dirty, he just lied there like he was about to fall asleep.

"Well," the Vice President's son began, "We went to the hospital. And it turned out that a doctor picked it up who thought it was his patient's. This patient had lost a different ring, but did not realize it until she was checked out of the hospital. Then, as tight as she was on money for being a single mother of three, she pawned it." He made a sound that sounded like a half snort, half chuckle. "A strip club bouncer bought it for his wife—check this out: one of the strippers." He waved his hands about crazily. "We tried to get it back and the other bouncers got defensive and you can guess what happened _then._" He leaned down to smell his shoulder. "Geh. I still smell like dumpster."

Lalasa was silent for a few moments before she folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a scathing glare. "You were _in_ the strip club?"

Roald bolted upright. "No way!" He smirked. "We sent Neal in. He was glad to go, no surprise there. We only got into the fight when they picked him up like a Frisbee and tossed him out the door."

As amusing as the mental image was, she continued to drill him for information rather than laugh.

"Then how did you get the ring back?"

"Kel went in and had a civil conversation with the stripper until things got sorted out; money was doled out for compensation, yadda yadda."

Lalasa looked down at her ring. "Oh, Roald. That sounds like quite a day." She stood up and cheerily smiled at him. "Thank you so much, dear husband mine!"

And with that, she turned the shower on and stepped back. Roald's body jerked as he let out a cry of outrage. He stood up and started sputtering. The water was ice cold.

"And scrub really hard, sweetie! I don't want you to touch the towels until the filth is all gone. You know that sort of mess leaves residual smell on everything! Here, don't even use your silly soap—use mine!"

He grimaced. "It smells like gardenias. I can't smell like gardenias!"

"Roald!" She stomped her foot on the tiled bathroom floor. Roald rolled his eyes and flung the shower curtain around the bathtub to effectively end the conversation.

Back in the other bathroom, Neal was in the bathtub with the plastic curtain drawn. Keladry was braced against the sink. Her jacket was on the floor, as were Neal's shoes and socks. She rolled her sleeves up and scrubbed her arms above the sink. At least she wasn't that dirty. She just needed to freshen up. Lalasa had plenty of body sprays. Perhaps she could find one that didn't smell too strong.

"What do I do with my clothes?" Neal called.

"Rinse them out as much as you can while you're in there. We can't put all of that dirt into the washer. It would destroy it."

"Ugh! This stinks!"

"Yeah, thanks for pointing that out," she replied sarcastically.

Ulliver knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

She glanced at the shower curtain. "Um, sure."

"Hey, are you guys okay?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Neal called out over the noise of the shower. "In fact, I threw _myself_ into that dumpster. Yeah, we're peachy."

"Don't mind him. He was just disappointed about his first strip club experience."

Ulliver's eyes widened. Keladry shook her head to indicate that it was better that he not ask.

In the living room, everyone else was quietly musing to themselves to the reason of the three's disheveled appearances. That was, of course, except for the sports fans seated on or around the couch watching the motorcycle race. Cleon busied himself in entertaining the baby, rocking him in his arms and humming nursery tunes. He did not like looking at motorcycles since they reminded him of Joren and what mysterious falling-out that the blond had had with Keladry.

Daine appeared at his side, looking over his shoulder at the infant.

"He's got his father's looks. Don't you think?"

Cleon nodded. "Sure does."

The Councilwoman touched his arm. "Cleon, it's good to have you home."

She had been the on to allow Faleron to come to the Eastern Yamanis with the DJPF officers. Faleron had talked her into letting him go. Cleon only wondered what guilt she felt. Daine probably thought that it was her fault that Faleron went and got himself hurt. He sighed. He'd hoped to avoid other people's guilt, but it seemed inevitable. The redhead hesitated before replying. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't going to come home."

Shocked by the revelation, she waited for him to continue. He gazed down at the tiny person in his arms.

_All of this time… It's almost like you gambled with Fate, made a wager, and here you are again. You're such a manipulative sneak, Fal, you know that?_

"I almost didn't come home," he repeated to Daine. He leaned down and kissed the crown of the baby's head. "But I'm glad I did."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's note: It's definitely May 20, 2004 and I've finished another episode again. Oy. This is weird. I'm writing these episodes pretty rapidly now that I'm graduated, but I won't post them so close together. That ruins suspense and such. Not that there is much of that anymore. When was the last time I put in a cliffhanger? Hmm.

I know, everyone's still sad about Faleron. Cleon seems like a completely different person. You could have picked THAT up well enough from the parallel/sequel series The Gift. Go read it if you haven't yet. It's quite a tease for the aftermath of ICBW, even if ICBW isn't finished yet. .

Sulia S.


	7. Guest

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 7: Guest**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13 for habitual cursing. When isn't there cursing anymore? There's also some action here, which doesn't really get all that violent. It's a cop series with personal drama. What did you expect?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Kad!" Lalasa exclaimed. "Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you!"

Kaddar Iliniat braced himself as his cousin threw herself into his arms. Since she had become a wife, let alone a mother, Lalasa had been very affectionate to the world in general, not just her own husband and her friends. Coupled with the fact that she had not seen Kaddar since they were hiding out in Scanra, she was doubly glad to see him.

Her cousin was of medium height, still taller than his feisty cousin. He wore his dark hair back in a short ponytail. His ears were pierced and sported small gold loops. His clothing, though dark and neat, looked expensive for the fabric alone. On further inspection, one would find the clothing from one of the top designers in the western world. Lalasa's fashion sense was obviously something that ran in the family.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've finally been able to visit! You missed the wedding last year, and I wish you hadn't."

The dark skinned man winced. "Yes, I'm really sorry about that."

Roald watched amusedly. "Don't worry.  You didn't miss much."

Lalasa turned and glared at him. "Ha. Ha. Very funny."

"Where's the baby?" Kaddar asked, trying to appear regal and stately rather than eager and common.

"He's in his crib, sleeping. Come, sneak a peek," she urged as she took him by the hand and led him into the baby's room.

While they were quietly observing the baby, the bell to the door rang. Roald got up and went to answer it, expecting yet another visitor to see little Faleron. Cleon came quite frequently to see the baby. He was still living with Keladry, but expected to move out at the end of the week when all of his things had been restored to his apartment.

Roald admired Cleon for his perseverance. He admired Keladry for her loyalty and friendship. And most of all, he admired Ulliver Linden for putting up with the fact that another man was living was his girlfriend, no matter how plutonic Cleon and Keladry's relationship was. There was, in Roald's experience, an innate and heightened sense of possessiveness that all men had, whether they showed it or not. He had no idea how Ulliver kept his in check.

"Hello?" he said as he slid open the door. His eyes immediately lit up. "Kally! You're here!"

His half sister Kalasin Jasson entered, followed by Cleon and Keladry. They had picked her up from the airport. Whether the reunion of the sharpshooter and the spy had been emotional or romantic, Roald had no idea, but he didn't care. His sister was there and she had yet to reprimand him for calling her by a nickname.

"Are you hungry? I'll heat up some food really quick. Just wait here. Cleon, show her a seat, already!" He started walking toward the kitchen before he pivoted on the ball of his foot and turned back toward them. "But please be quiet. He's sleeping."

"Nap time already?" Cleon said, a little disappointed. He had been hoping to play with the baby for a few minutes.

The couple sat down on the couch quietly, merely enjoying each other's company without speaking while Keladry wandered to the kitchen to assist Roald (and give the reunited couple time alone). Kalasin was not sure at first how to react to the man who had picked her up at the airport. He seemed so different. He had not made any silly gestures. He had not said anything immature. Cleon had grown up during his absence, but he was still Cleon. She could see the light in his eyes, clouded by the loss of his best friend.

_Temporary scars,_ she thought, suddenly wondering why the phrase would come to mind.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispered.

"So am I," she replied. Making sure that Roald was still in the kitchen and that no one else was in the room, Kalasin leaned forward and kissed Cleon tenderly.

He sighed into her mouth, as if he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have this contact with her. His hand reached up to stroke the side of her face. How had he been lucky enough to win this beautiful woman in front of him?

And then it all came rushing back to him. Faleron's advice… the shooting gallery… the stuffed hippo…

Cleon reluctantly ended the kiss and leaned back against the couch. He touched Kalasin's lip with his finger, tracing the bottom. She was inwardly alarmed to see such a grave expression on his face. They were together again, were they not? Wasn't that reason enough for a respite from his mourning? He let his hand drop just as Lalasa reentered with another man following her.

Lalasa withheld a squeal of delight to see her sister-in-law. Before the wedding, she and Kalasin had always regarded each other with respect—but from a distance. Lalasa didn't care much for those ideas anymore. They were _all_ family! She groped for Kaddar's arm and yanked him in front of her for introduction. "Kalasin! Cleon!" she whispered theatrically so they could hear her. "I'd like you to meet my cousin—"

"Kaddar Iliniat," Kalasin finished. She stood up and folded her arms across her chest.

Kaddar blinked, blushing a little. He smiled slightly. "You know me?"

The female spy nodded. In her most businesslike tone, she said, "Three men who were identified as former allies of Ozorne Tasikhe escaped from a prison transport last week. You're one of the people on their revenge list, I can imagine. The other…"

All eyes turned toward Lalasa, who turned an angry red.

"Damn my father!" she screamed. The baby began crying in the background. Lalasa fretfully fled to the baby's room in order to calm him down.

Roald appeared offended as he emerged from the kitchen, followed by Keladry. "So you didn't just come to see the baby?"

Kalasin stepped back, startled. Either she had hoped they wouldn't make that connection or that the idea had not occurred to her. Cleon shared Roald's hurt expression. Kaddar looked on, just entranced by the dark haired, mysterious woman who had revealed his secrets.

"And me?" Cleon asked.

"Of course I came to see you all," she said irritably. She turned toward Kaddar. "And you, Iliniat, you've only come here because it wasn't safe for you back in Scanra."

Lalasa's cousin shrugged dismissively. His eyes roamed from head to toe over the woman addressing him. "It isn't safe for me anywhere. I just happen to have family here. And a new cousin." He paused. "Once removed, if I remember genealogy correctly."

Keladry stepped in. "I'll page Flyndon. You'll probably need a bodyguard, then," she told Kaddar. "Are you planning on staying in Tusaine for a while?"

"Where else can I go?" His gaze drifted toward Kalasin, a little too absorbed in her presence.

Keladry noticed. _I'll have to ask Lalasa later if he has the habit of skirt-chasing. The vibe I've been getting from him within the last minute or so is not so good. _She walked forward and grabbed his wrist, hauling him after her into the kitchen. "Don't worry, everyone. I'll handle this."

She led him roughly in front of her, glaring at him as he casually leaned against the refrigerator. He didn't seem impressed with her. Keladry only regretted that she had not observed his character better the last time she had seen him two years ago.

"Kalasin is off-limits. And by Glory, you're practically related!" she scolded, reddening herself.

Kaddar rolled his eyes. "Only through marriage… OW!"

His hand flew to his cheek where Keladry had punched him. He stared at her incredulously, but she only glared at him. Kaddar rubbed his smarting cheek, wondering how much luck he possessed to have avoided having his head taken clear off his body.

Keladry paged Flyndon and awaited his answer, telling Kaddar in the meanwhile not to leave the Jasson residence on pain of death-by-energy-glaive. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I thought you were estranged from Ozorne by the time he died. Why would these guys care about you?"

His back stiffened. "I'm a witness at one of their trials."

_He doesn't look so confident about that answer. Is it true?_

"Anything else?" she pressed.

He shook his head vigorously. "Of course not!"

She pushed him ahead of her as they left the kitchen. In the living room, Lalasa sat nervously on the couch with Roald at her side. Cleon and Kalasin were now standing and speaking quietly, probably about the potential threat to Lalasa and Kaddar.

"So?"

"So we wait," she replied. She glanced at her pager, having just felt a vibration from it. It was not Flyndon, but Ulliver. She sighed. "Sorry. I already made plans today, so I won't be able to stay with you and sort this out. I'm sure nothing will happen today, anyway. Tomorrow, we can worry."

She went to the door of the apartment. Cleon followed her with the intention of speaking alone with her. He closed the apartment door behind him and stood quietly in the hall.

"What is it with that guy giving Kalasin looks? I don't like him," he whispered.

"Don't worry about it. I warned him," Keladry assured. She cracked her knuckles. "And if he doesn't heed my warning, either you or I can take care of him, distant relative of Lalasa's or no."

Cleon nodded. He did not believe for a second that Kalasin might warm up to Kaddar's lingering looks, but he could not tolerate Kaddar. And for that reason, he knew he might have to copy Keladry's action and knock a little sense into him.

_What would you have done? Challenge him to a game of poker?_

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So you've never been on a picnic before?" Ulliver asked, stretching out beneath the tree. The late summer, early autumn weather was warm enough for them to go without jackets in the local park. The tips of the leaves were turning brown and yellow, but there was still plenty of green life surrounding them to create a vibrant atmosphere.

Keladry shook her head. "My family did, plenty of times, but I always snuck out."

"Snuck out of picnics? What sort of child were you?" he laughed. "Did you drink coffee and complain about ulcers?"

She pushed him by the shoulder and smiled. "No. So I was a little serious… I'm not like that anymore."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I _know._"

The female officer blushed and pushed him again. He caught her arm and pulled her down to lie against him. She fell against him, chuckling as he brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her. He shifted so he partly covered her, his hands reaching behind her back and stroking her spine absently.

The tender moment was interrupted by the noise of Keladry's pager. Ulliver muttered a curse. He hastily removed the pager from her wrist and flung it a few feet away. Keladry groaned and pushed him away.

"Ulliver! That might be important!" she scolded.

The man rolled his eyes and melodramatically collapsed against the picnic blanket, defeated by her noble sense of duty. She got up to retrieve the object and check to see who had contacted her. He turned his head to watch her crouch on the ground and read the small screen.

"Let me use your cell phone," she said, holding out her hand.

He reached into his back pocket and handed her his phone. She quickly dialed the number on the pager and waited for an answer.

"Hey, Kel," Cleon's voice greeted her.

"Cleon, what's going on?"

"Oh nothing. You know that guy who was about to hit on my girlfriend? Well, reportedly, he's running around town trying not to get shot at the moment. Neal thought that you two should probably help him. And I, on a personal note, emphasize _probably._"

"Cleon!" She wasn't sure as to take Cleon's resentment of Kaddar as a healthy sign of the good, old Cleon Kennan. At least an angry emotion was better than none.

"Okay, okay. Go help him. Last sighting was at the bridge. Neal and Wolset are already on their way. They'll contact you when the location changes."

She flipped the cell phone shut and handed it to Ulliver. "Well, this is going to be interesting."

Ulliver pouted. "I suppose you have to go."

"I'm sorry."

He sat up and began putting away the food they had packed. Worried that she had upset him yet again, she touched his shoulder. He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. His expression told her that he was fine with it. Sometime sooner or later, he would do it, too. It was expected in a relationship where both members were equally dedicated to their work.

"We'll try again some other time," he promised, standing up. He pulled her up as well, holding both her hands in his.

"We will," she agreed. "Thanks."

He brushed it off with a shake of his head. "Don't worry about it. Go on. Get out of here and save the day. Sheesh, you'd think I was dating the Amazon princess Diana slipping into Wonder Woman mode."

She kissed him and jogged away, focused upon saving Kaddar Iliniat, even if Cleon didn't think he deserved rescuing. Ulliver gazed dolefully down at the lunch he had prepared. He bent down to fold up the blanket.

"Save the day… _again,_" he grossed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She saw Wolset and Neal almost right away.  Neal was seated in the driver's seat while Wolset was standing outside the driver side window, shading his eyes with his hands and looking across the bridge. She stopped her motorcycle beside them and scanned the scene as well.

"Well, where are they?" she asked, already in an irritable mood for her interrupted picnic.

"From what we've pieced together, they were running along the bridge just over th—" Neal stopped. He frowned and pointed downward toward the river's edge. "I think they disappeared onto the river boardwalk."

"Why did he leave Lalasa's place anyway?"

"I don't know. Maybe Cleon scared him off or something. Kalasin _does_ stay with Roald and Lalasa when she's in town," Neal supplied. She muttered a curse.

"Aw man! There are too many tourists down there!" Wolset complained. He slid across the hood of the car, Dukes of Hazzard style and quickly got into shotgun. (Neal withheld the urge to make a smart comment on Wolset's action-hero behavior.) "Kel, follow us to the Boardwalk Pavilion! You branch out to the west end and we'll take the east!"

She nodded. She kicked off the curb and sped across the bridge. The opposite shore of the boardwalk was lined with docks. There were so many freighter ships and private owned boats that there was a whole different branch of security for the docks. It was very unlikely that Kaddar or his pursuers would have continued their chase on that side of the river.

The boardwalk was lined with a dozen little shops and booths that were especially busy during the summer season. With the entrance of autumn, the crowd had only died down just slightly. There were still plenty of people to allow anyone wishing to disappear to quickly get lost within them.

When Keladry reached the boardwalk, she wished she had time to get more background information on the men who had escaped the prison transport—a name, anything. Flyndon had not answered her page. She supposed she should have forwarded it to someone else at the station. But it was too late for that, wasn't it?

_Wait… Fugitive… Prison transport… I know just who to call for back up._

She glanced around. Keladry ducked into a COMscreen booth and quickly dialed the number she'd need to reach the Riders. Raoul answered, appearing curious as to why Keladry Mindelan, First Class DJPF officer would call him.

"Yes, Kel?"

"You're a Marshal! Aren't you supposed to deal with fugitives and prison transport?"

"Yes," he replied, starting to see by the look in her eyes what this was going to lead him to.

"Well, I've got two of them on a witness' tail! Get your people down to the boardwalk and help us out! You can check their names with Buri or something. They're old buddies of Ozorne Tasikhe."

The marshal snorted derisively. "The old fart still comes back to haunt us. Okay, we'll be there in no time! You page us any new developments, alright?"

She nodded and hung up. At least with more people on the case, they were bound to be more successful.

A flash of blue went by the COMscreen booth that caused Keladry to jerk around. She slammed the folding door aside and ran out. _There he is!_ She saw Kaddar look around fearfully as he bumped into other civilians walking around with snow cones and ice cream. He circled around a man giving a flying toy demonstration and disappeared into an outdoor arcade.

She quickly paged Wolset, telling him to hurry as humanly possibly to her location. They would only take a couple of minutes to reach her.

Keladry looked around. She could not see the two fugitives that were supposedly chasing him. It was going to be difficult to reveal them if she did not even know what they looked like. She carefully approached the entrance to the arcade, hoping that she could convince Kaddar to come with her. The scared man would probably rather keep running, safe from both DJPF and the fugitives. His record wasn't as squeaky clean as Lalasa's, after all.

She ran past a row of pinball machines and spied Kaddar standing next to an air-hockey table.

"Iliniat! Over here!" she called.

His head turned toward her. He licked his dry lips and shook his head. "Keep 'em busy!"

"What?" she frowned.

Then it dawned on her, and she ducked just in time to avoid a blow to the back of the head. Keladry whirled around while in a crouching position, sweeping her leg out and tripping whoever had tried to attack her from behind. The man hit the floor, but his partner leapt over him and went for Keladry head on.

She rolled onto her back and kicked her legs up just in time to catch the second, skinnier man in the midsection and toss him over her like a sack of rice. She jumped to her feet and prepared for whichever man got up first.

"Stop! Put your hands in the air! I'm the DJPF!" she warned, brandishing her fists.

Neither of them seemed to care. They both dove at her. Keladry found it difficult to fight off both men at once. She landed two punches and a waist high kick before retreating to safety. She ran backward, turned, and flipped over a foosball table. She wished she had had her energy glaive with her, but she'd traveled straight from her picnic with Ulliver to the bridge.

_Man, I can't fight unarmed as well as I used to. Hakuin and Eda would be so ashamed of me!_ She panted and caught her breath.

The other occupants of the arcade began to flee, shrieking to the outside of the tent. Keladry hoped they called for help, too. The more, the better. Two men didn't need so much of the DJPF to bring them down, but Keladry desperately wanted to get the job over with and go back to her picnic.

Keladry attacked the heavier man, who was dark haired and obviously Carthaki. She'd seen his profile before, she was sure of it, but she couldn't remember who. As she punched the man in the face, lost in thought about identifying him, she suddenly remembered the other man…

…a bit too late.

_I'm getting rusty,_ she thought dizzily as the bar taken from the foosball table connected with the back of her head. Keladry slumped to the ground, unconscious.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Kel! Kel, wake up! They're getting away by boat!"

She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. "What?"

"They kidnapped Iliniat—probably to torture him later," Wolset said, emphasizing his hunch by placing fist over palm. It was a cartoon-ish gesture that had Keladry shaking her head and wondering what else had happened during her very uncharacteristic knock-out.

"Raoul's rented a couple of boats and Flyn's got River Security on the job, too!" Wolset added, helping Keladry to stand. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, though her head was still throbbing. "I'll be fine. Is it too late?"

"Would the two of you hurry? They're getting away!" Neal called impatiently from the opening of the arcade tent.

Keladry and Wolset ran after their partner as he headed across the boardwalk toward one of the merchant docks. A speedboat with the DJPF insignia on the hull was waiting for them. And behind the wheel was none other than Lerant. He waved them over. The three officers scrambled into the speedboat. Their hands shot out and grabbed each other as Lerant sped away from the dock.

Lerant appeared truly excited. His dirty blond hair moved around his head in an animated way. His lips were already wind-chapped, but he definitely seemed much happier than anyone else had observed since the awkward incident with his and Yuki's fake wedding. He grinned as he kept his eyes glued to his prey. They were catching up.

"There's Raoul!" Neal pointed. "Hey… when did he learn to drive a boat?"

"Does it matter? Where are Kaddar and the suspects?" Keladry shouted over the noise of the boat.

The wind was blowing her hair about. She pushed her bangs out of the way and peered across the river, trying to sort out which boats were which. She could make out Raoul and Prosper in a boat identical to the one they were in, perhaps two hundred meters away. She couldn't tell if they were pursuing anyone beyond that because the river was so crowded with boats.

Wolset grabbed her arm to get her attention. He pointed to a black boat not too far ahead of Raoul and Prosper's boat. "There they are!"

"And there's River Security," Keladry breathed gratefully.

Two more speedboats marked with the DJPF insignia as well as a sign for River Security were in front of the black boat, blocking their way. To avoid being pinched on both sides by their pursuers, the men in the black boat turned perpendicular to their path and headed at a dangerous speed straight for the cargo docks.

They watched in horror as the boat actually slid up a loading ramp from out of the water and hit the side of a truck. The prow of the speedboat crumpled like paper under the impact, but the rest of the boat remained intact. Then the two men hauled Kaddar from the floor of the boat and onto his feet, bullying him at gunpoint. The Scanran held up his hands in a gesture of submissiveness as they dragged him out and along.

Raoul's boat, then Lerant's, docked. They drew their own guns with hopes of not having to use them. They approached the fugitives cautiously.

"Iliniat, are you okay?" Keladry called over to him.

"He won't be if you don't back down!" one of the men said. The three men were moving past a row of cargo crates. Keladry hoped River Security would get to their location more quickly so that they could surround the men.

She glanced around her. There were only five of them—

_Five? There should be six! Where is… Wolset! Where's Wolset?_

"What do you want with him anyway?" Raoul demanded. He had his gun trained on the larger man holding Kaddar. Keladry thought absently that she had been waiting too long to see the famed Raoul Malorie in action.

"Why don't you tell them, Kad!" the skinnier man barked.

Kaddar gulped. "Uh…"

"Tell them! Tell them everything, Kaddar!" the larger man ordered, pressing the barrel of his gun harder against Kaddar's head.

The Scanran moaned painfully. "I… I…"

"Do it!"

_What are they talking about? _Keladry wondered. Her heart was pounding. Were there _more_ secrets to be uncovered? And here she thought the legacy of Ozorne Tasikhe had ended, but apparently it was as alive as ever.

"Okay, okay!" Kaddar gave in. The sweat was dripping from his brow. "I… wasn't estranged from Uncle when he carried out his last attack. I was the one who hacked into the Council's system to get all the information he needed about the President's Estate and I was the one who ran his base back in Scanra!" His chest heaved. "Alright? I'm just as guilty! I just… managed to escape notice is all…"

Lerant let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Did anyone get that confession on tape?" Neal asked.

"Later!" Raoul interrupted. "We still have a hostage situation, boys." He paused. "And girl."

"Thanks," Keladry muttered.

Her eyes widened when she saw a shadow of moment from around the large walls and stacks of cargo crates. Her gaze flickered to her fellow officers and the Riders. They appeared not to notice anything. Biting the inside of her cheek, she dared to take four steps forward.

"Stay back!" the larger man warned. "Stay back or he gets it!" The hand holding the gun to Kaddar's head was shaking. The Scanran appeared as if he were going to vomit from fear.

"Drop it!" the other man yelled.

Keladry smirked. She dropped her gun, as ordered.

Confusion flashed in the men's faces. Keladry glanced up just in time to see Wolset leap from the crates and tackle the larger man and Kaddar to the ground. Caught off guard, the skinnier man jumped back, his mouth open wide in a gasp.

Prosper reacted quickly. He squeezed off one round that shot the gun out of the skinny man's hand. The man immediately raised his arms in surrender, hoping to avoid further trouble. There was no hope for escape now without a weapon. Meanwhile, Wolset was on the ground, wrestling the other gun out of the large man's grip. Kaddar crawled away on all fours, blood trickling down his temple from when his face hit the dock.

Neal moved forward to help, but Raoul stopped him.

"Let the boy get it himself."

Just as he said that, Wolset reeled back his arm and let loose a furious punch that knocked the man out cold. His limbs stopped struggling and fell to the dock limp. Wolset climbed off the man and plopped unceremoniously onto his rear, wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his arm.

"Nice one, Wolsie," Lerant nodded, impressed. "You pack some punch, huh?"

Keladry's partner looked embarrassed. "I've been working out."

Raoul guffawed. "Well! I'd better join your gym, huh? Come on, now. Let's get these guys cuffed and take them down to the station to be booked."

Keladry walked over to where Kaddar lay gasping. "Right!" She threw a look of disgust at Lalasa's cousin, still affronted by the fact that he had been a criminal all along. "Well, this certainly is a surprise. I had hoped that Lalasa wasn't the only non-villain in her family."

"I'm not a villain!" Kaddar protested.

Neal snorted and rolled his eyes. "Right. And I'm a woman in disguise."

As he handcuffed Kaddar, Keladry tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I don't know Neal… you do have a very womanish shriek when provoked…"

"What?!" he exclaimed.

"I mean, the name Squealin Nealan has to come from somewhere, right?" she teased.

"You should talk, Tough Stuff!" Neal retorted. "Don't make me tell everyone about the time we went to that party off Academy campus and some girl mistook you for a boy!"

Keladry blushed furiously. "She was drunk! And don't remind me about that… that girl almost—"

"Almost what?" Wolset asked as he walked up. The Riders were handing over the handcuffed suspects over to River Security as they spoke, leaving them free to chat.

She shook her head. "Nothing!"

Neal puckered his lips and began making kissing noises. Keladry shoved him away and stomped away, fuming. Wolset glanced back and forth perplexedly as Neal doubled over in laughter.

"No, no, it gets better Wolset. I'll tell you about the time that Zell Dincht threw a pool party during summer break and Kel's swimsuit—" He was immediately cut off when a bag of lifejackets taken from the speedboat were hurled straight at Neal's head.

"She's got some temper nowadays, huh?" Raoul noted to his Riders. They wordlessly nodded and stepped aside as Keladry went past, muttering about loud-mouthed, green-eyed men.

- - - - - - - - - -

When she got home, the COMscreen was ringing. It had to have been Ulliver checking on her, so she set down her things and rushed to the screen. She pressed the button and eagerly awaited to see her boyfriend's face.

What she saw had her taken aback.

"Hi, Kel. Long time, eh?"

She gazed into the man's dark piercing eyes with a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk."

"That's a lie. Nothing is ever that simple with you."

He didn't respond to that. They both remained silent for a long time before Liam cocked his head to the side and began regarding her curiously.

"You met someone." It wasn't a question, just a statement of truth. There wasn't any use hiding it, Keladry figured. He knew how to read her.

"Don't you dare tell him," she threatened.

Liam laughed. "And what makes you think I can tell him anything? He's not even here."

Keladry blinked. "But… I thought… if he's not there… where is he?"

"How am I supposed to know?" The look on his face appeared sincere enough that she knew that he wasn't lying. He didn't know. But there was a gleam of arrogance in his eyes and she also knew that all of that information had been intentionally revealed.

"But… he's safe, isn't he?"

The hit man shrugged. "Maybe he is and maybe he isn't. What should it matter to you anymore? After all, you've _met_ someone."

Her panicked, frightened, and outraged reaction was his revenge. And so Liam did not mind so much when the only woman he had ever brought himself to care for hung up in his face.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's notes: Sorry, couldn't resist. Liam is not just a hired muscle, as we all know. He's Joren's rival. He's Keladry's rejection (though he dumped her, we all know that he did it by Enishi's orders. It was clear to everyone that Kel was meant for Joren, so Liam had to be shoved out of the love triangle by force). He is… a whole bunch of nerves and angers that don't play nicely with each other. That's our Liam!

And as for everything else, well, that's all self-explanatory. I realized that I've always had Kalasin and Cleon _think_ about each other in semi-romantic senses, but never actually had them do anything. So hope ya enjoyed that one.

Next time! **ICBW Season 4, episode 8: Journey**

…Inspirational lyrics for this future episode: Bob Dylan, "Highway 61 Revisited":

"_Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son"_

_Abe says, "Man, you must be puttin' me on"_

_God say "No." Abe say, "What?"_

_God say, "You can do what you want, Abe, but_

_The next time you see me comin' you better run"_

_Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done?"_

_God says, "Out on Highway 61." _"


	8. Journey

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 8: Journey**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: R for revelations. Okay, that was corny. Sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The air was hot and dry. He was thankful for the shade that the palm trees provided, even if it was only a little respite from the harsh, glaring sun. He knelt by the pool and dipped his hands into the water. He brought some water to his mouth and sipped before splashing it all over his face. It was the most refreshing he had felt in days.

He sat back on his haunches and looked around for his traveling companion. The other man was nowhere in sight.

"Figures," Joren muttered as he got to his feet and padded through the tall grass until his shoes touched sand. He adjusted his gait and glanced about again for the missing man.

He was thankful for the sunglasses and the hat on his head. He would have been sunburned ages ago if he hadn't remembered to keep light layers over the majority of his skin despite his inclination to strip it off. He flapped the bottom of his shirt out so as to allow air to flow against his hot skin.

Why had Enishi taken him to a desert?

"If we'd stayed close to home, you'd be too tempted to go back and see someone you care about," Enishi answered, appearing from behind him.

Joren whirled around, hands already curled into fists. "How many times do I have to warn you not to do that?" He growled. The man had never ceased to spook him by reading his thoughts.  "And I don't have people to care about."

"I would have believed that if you hadn't visited with young Mr. King. And I would have believed that if you hadn't returned home with Keladry the first time," the white haired man replied. He tossed a canteen at Joren, who caught it in his right hand.

While taking a swig, he kept his eyes trained on Enishi as if he expected the other man to disappear into thin air. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tossed the canteen back at him. "So really. Why bring me anywhere? What do you have to say to me that requires us to be completely isolated in a hundred mile radius?"

Enishi walked back into the oasis. "I told you, I didn't want you capable of running away, back to your friends and family. You don't even know where in the world you are. And I like that."

Joren shoved past the palm fronds. He could hear the man's voice, but he couldn't keep up with him through the greenery. The branches and leaves slapped at his face and his shoulders as he went past. Joren ignored the stinging pain like he would a mosquito. He finally came back to the pool, thoroughly annoyed. The pool rippled when his feet touched the edge. It was the only movement in the clearing.

The blond glanced about him, tense in anticipation. "So? What is it that you have to say to me that will make me run away?"

"It's not so much as I want to _say_ something," Enishi's disembodied voice called out. Joren frowned. He could not pinpoint his location. The voice seemed to echo out from all directions.

After silently observing the palms and the bushes that surrounded the pool, waiting for the other man to reveal himself, Joren cursed. He relaxed his muscles and turned around to stomp back the way he had came. He wasn't about to play mind games in the middle of a desert.

Instead, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. One of his Desert Eagles, to be exact. He'd brought the gun with him when he returned from Mithros. He let his eyes trail upward to see the person holding the gun. It was Enishi. Of course it was! Who else was in the damned desert with them? He'd made it extremely clear that he'd wanted Joren alone with him on this journey.

"You aren't really going to shoot me," Joren snapped. "You would have done that a long time ago if you were going to do it at all!"

The aquamarine eyes lit up. "Are you so sure about that?"

A sudden stab of fear cut through Joren as he realized that Enishi might not be bluffing. It had been so long since he had felt fear, true fear. He would have embraced death plenty of times before this moment, but now that it was under the direct orders of the one man he loathed… it seemed absolutely frightening.

"You wouldn't," Joren hissed, hoping against hope that it really was a bluff.

"Keep talking if it makes you feel better," Enishi said, sounding smug.

The blond stepped forward, suddenly outraged and affronted enough to give Enishi a piece of his mind. "Now you listen, you son of a—"

_Bang._

_…_

_…_

_…_

Joren's eyes widened. He felt himself shoved backwards by a force his mind barely registered. His chest heaved once before he found himself unable to breath. And then, his body hit the cool water. The strength left his limbs as his arms floated by his side. Water rushed into his mouth and nose as his head went under. No scream would burst forth from his lips. There was no one to hear it, anyway.

His eyes were still open. And though a dark haze was starting to cloud his vision, he could just make out the blurry image of a white haired man standing beyond the water's edge. The barrel of the gun was still smoking.

…

Enishi watched silently as the water of the oasis pool began to turn red. It went out from the body and swirled around until all the water was pink. In a few more minutes it would be completely red. He sat down on a nearby fallen palm and began to polish the gun. He thought to himself logically that if Joren had trusted him enough to _not_ _bring_ the gun in the first place, things would never have gotten so unnecessarily messy.

Young men were so foolish those days.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He was floating. Or not. Maybe he was flying. Weren't they the same thing? Or did one require movement while the other required nothing? He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he did know that his feet did not touch any sort of ground and no wire held him up.

He sailed over the white capped mountains of the Eastern world, amazed by their majesty. No plane ride could ever have shown him this. The speed at which he moved took his breath away.

Then he arrived at Enishijirou. He slowed down as he approached the gigantic mountain, circling around it. At last he descended, the clouds brushing past him like caressing feathers.

_Where am I?_

He closed his eyes.

_Am I dead?_

He blinked and looked out again.

_I am… definitely not where I'm supposed to be._

Joren stepped out into the familiar setting. He was in Enishi's bedchambers. He recognized the silk canopy of the bed and the patterns of the rugs. There was a golden tinge to the room, like he was looking at the place with tinted sunglasses.

_Why am I here?_

He reached out to pick up a lit candle resting in a brass candelabrum on the table. To his shock, his hand passed right through it. Joren jerked his hand back, staring at his palm in disbelief. The lines along his hands were still the same. The calluses were his. Nothing had changed.

_I'm a ghost. Holy shit._

A movement from the corner of his eye caused him to turn. On the bed behind the drawn sheer curtains of the canopy, was a person sleeping. Joren tentatively moved forward. From what he could see, the person did not have white hair. So it puzzled him as to who would be sleeping in the king's chambers, in his very own bed.

His hand shot out to draw back the curtain before he realized that this was impossible. So instead, he slowly lowered his head through until he could see inside.

A woman with blond hair and fair skin slept soundly between the silk sheets. Her long eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, her eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids from some pleasant dream. There was a sharp intake of breath as Joren ducked his head back out. He took several steps back until he realized he had stepped completely through the table and the candelabrum.

He turned his back to the bed, thinking futilely that perhaps he was only seeing things. His curiosity got the better of him. Joren quickly turned and ran back to the bed, sticking his head through the curtain.

_It can't be…_ he thought. _Mom?_

Joren withdrew from the bed a second time. It was her, alright. The face that he had seen thousands of times… sometimes at his bedside when he awoke, sometimes at his bedside at night reading him a story. He remembered being very little and riding around on his father's shoulders. His mother would take the opportunity to tickle him. She would laugh as well, and then her whole face would light up.

_How can this be? What is she doing here?_

His question was forgotten when the door to the chambers opened. In stepped a man who Joren did not have trouble recognizing at all. It was Enishi, looking just as young as he'd last seen him, maybe even a tiny bit younger. His hair was still white, but his body still youthful. Unlike the Mithran clothing that Enishi had been prone to wear in Joren's presence, here he retained the traditional Yamani garb that was more decorative than practical. It was like seeing a different man.

The former mafia don closed the door carefully behind him so as to avoid creating noise. Then he approached the bed, parting the canopy curtain with both his hands. Enishi sat down on the edge of the bed. The movement stirred Joren's mother awake. She lifted her head sleepily and smiled at her visitor. To Joren's shock, he realized his mother was wearing a red satin chemise.

"Celeste," Enishi whispered. "How are you feeling?"

She reached out one graceful arm for Enishi's hand. He leaned forward her and brought her hand to his lips. And there the moment stretched out until forever. For every second that his lips lingered on her skin, Joren felt himself die again and again. If he was not a ghost yet, Joren was now most certainly one.

"I have something to tell you," she murmured. Her eyes seemed to brighten. Joren recalled his father being able to cause such a reaction from her as well, and it pained him to see it here and now.

Enishi lowered her hand. He showed her a kind smile and nodded slowly. "I already know about the baby."

"You do?" she asked, a frown starting to make its way onto her features.

He chuckled lightly and moved across the bed to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. "Yes. I know _everything_, or have you forgotten?"

"Hmm… I remember," she replied coyly.

Enishi began to move off the bed. "But I must speak with my brother, as he has called upon me. I apologize, but we can spend the afternoon together if you would like."

"Sounds wonderful."

The two people gazed at each other with such affection that Joren had thought he had only seen once before—between his own mother and father. But as he watched Enishi's departure and his mother's lingering gaze upon his back, he started to get the feeling that the affection was exactly as he had likened it to be.

Joren cast one last hurt look at his drowsy mother before running through the chamber doors and following his white haired tormentor.

Enishi walked purposefully through the Palace, emerging outside in the gardens. Joren walked close to the shadows of the cherry blossom trees. He knew he was a ghost and that no one could see him, but the act of sneaking along stealthily was still an ingrained habit. He continued to trail Enishi until the other man reached the stone courtyard where the benches and tables were.

There waiting was a man with white hair identical to that of the king's. He was the same height as Enishi, but had a more athletic, intimidating build to his body that showed through the layers of rich fabrics and decoration. With the man was a boy who looked to be around seven or eight years of age. The boy looked up when he saw Enishi approach. With a cry of delight, he hopped off his seat and ran toward him to hug the king around his leg.

"Uncle! How are you today?" the boy asked, grinning.

The king smiled fondly down at his nephew. "Very well, Yahiko."

"Yahiko," the seated man called. "Please go play farther off with your nurse. Your uncle and I have some matters to discuss."

"Yes, Papa."

The boy seemed disappointed, but he complied. A woman that Joren had not noticed before who reminded him much of Lady Haname bowed from the far side of the garden. She held out her hand until Yahiko reached her and took it, casting a baleful glance over his small shoulders.

Yahiko's age and the presence of his father indicated something very important to Joren: he was in the past. He had to have been! He recalled Enishi first telling him that Yahiko was his nephew and that he had come under his guardianship after his brother and sister-in-law had died. For Yahiko to appear this young, Joren's mother to be alive, and Yahiko's father to be present, Joren must have been viewing the past. But what did it all mean?

Enishi adjusted his tunic as he sat. His expression transformed into something more businesslike. Joren recognized that look. It was one that had ruled the gangs of Tusaine for years. It had been Joren's worst pictorial memory.

"So, Sanosuke, what did you wish to speak to me about?"

"You know very well what I'm going to say," his younger brother accused.

The king sighed. "You sensed that she is with child, too."

"How could I not?" Sanosuke retorted, appearing very affronted. "The same blood runs through our veins. I should be able to move the mountains just as much as you, if not an inch less! The point is, you should not act as if I know nothing. _And,_" Here Sanosuke leaned forward conspiratorially, "you should not ignore my advice."

"I know what advice you give and I care for none of it," Enishi replied casually.

His little brother appeared very frustrated with him. He stood up and leaned over the stone table, placing both hands to brace him. It was an aggressive stance and Joren wondered if all little brothers of Enishijirou were as big and assertive as Sanosuke.

"Listen, _Onisan_, your mistress is pregnant and you must have her leave before the Elders know that she is carrying your child. For if they _do_, they will kill her and your unborn babe to prevent the royal inheritance of an impure bloodline."

"They will do no such thing. I am king. If I do remember correctly, that position entitles me the ultimate power, does it not? I shall declare her my chosen queen and the babe my heir." Enishi continued to remain the epitome of calm and nonchalant, but Joren could tell that he was starting to be affected by his brother's words.

Sanosuke was now thoroughly exasperated. "Do you not get it? They swear their loyalty to the throne itself, the very root of all tradition in this entire city. They swear their loyalty to _law_, which is older than both of us and older than Enishijirou itself. They will uphold the tradition and they _will_ kill Celeste."

There was a silence that followed that signaled Enishi's resignation and defeat. After a few more moments, Sanosuke sat back down and reached for his brother's hands. Enishi pulled back and placed his hands in his lap, looking his younger brother square in the eye.

"And what do you suggest I do, oh wise little brother?"

The contempt for not just Sanosuke, but everything in the entire world that was not Celeste, was clear in Enishi's eyes.

"I suggest," Sanosuke began, "that I introduce you to one of my friends."

"I hardly think this is the time for you to be matchmaking."

His younger brother chuckled. "No, not that. I was referring to a young traveler who has just entered our realm. He's one of the most interesting men to have unwittingly stumbled in for centuries. I think he would be perfect to assist us in sneaking Celeste out."

"Sneaking her out?" Enishi echoed dully. Joren sighed. He could tell that the white haired king in front of him really did care for his mother and, more, was devastated by the thought of losing her.

"Yes. He will sneak her out and take care of her for the rest of their short mortal lives."

"And the child?"

Sanosuke shrugged. "I imagine that his royal blood will be latent as long as he is not born within the realm where the very air will affect him."

"That would mean that she must leave right away, while she is still fit to travel the mountains," Enishi whispered.

His brother shook his head. "I know this is difficult for you, Onisan, but you must let her go. It is the best choice for her. You want her to live, do you not? You want her and the child to enjoy a full life unhindered by the ties that we have here?" He gestured around him. "I know you love her, but you have loved Enishijirou longer. And you owe the Elders and your people obedience to the law that they, too, submit to. It is only right."

The king hung his head. The conversation was over.

After that very revealing scene in the garden, Joren suddenly found himself transported to a one of the square cubicles of the hive-like First District. He leaned out a window and discovered that he was indeed in the same time period as before. Sanosuke and Enishi stood below him dressed in dark cloaks fastened with bright golden clasps. The younger brother seemed to be comforting his grim-faced onisan as the two prepared to enter the dwelling that Joren was in.

When he saw the pair pass through the entrance below, Joren scrambled for the wooden ladder and almost fell right through the opening to get to the lower floor. He landed on his rear, but felt no pain. There were some benefits to being a ghost after all.

An older woman wearing dozens of bright beaded necklaces and very large turquoise earrings greeted the two men. She bowed many times, causing her jewelry to make a pleasant tinkling noise that continued long after the two men had entered the main room and seated themselves.

Another man was seated at the wooden dinner table. He was dressed in Western travel clothing, and had slight sunburn all on his lower part of his face where his goggles had not covered. His face was actually quite charming. His tousled dark hair and thick eyebrows were attractive and his smile absolutely irresistible.

Joren almost cried out aloud when he realized he was staring at his very own father.

"I would like to introduce you to Derek Stone. He's an extreme sports enthusiast, motorcycles in particular. He was out here with his friends looking for some 'extreme' slopes to snowboard upon." Sanosuke's voice communicated that he was very fascinated with Derek's chosen hobbies. Since they had not left the mountain in centuries and a traveler had not been taken in to them for decades, everything that the man spoke was obviously very interesting and new.

"Greetings, Derek," Enishi said stiffly. "I am Enishi Yukishiro, king of all that you see. I hope you are enjoying your stay in the First District?"

Derek heard the word king and immediately stood to bow to him. His action was obviously jerky and amateur, but it should have been considering that he'd never seen royalty before. "Oh, I'm absolutely loving it here, Sir! Er, Your Highness!"

Joren could feel his breath hitch. He had missed his father so much. Years of replaying that last time he had seen him, pushing him to safety from his burning home… And now here he was, his father in his youth, being introduced to Enishi Yukishiro, who was—

--his _real_ father.

_I'm going to vomit,_ he thought deliriously before stumbling through the doorway leading outside.

As soon as he stepped through the door, he found himself standing at the First Gate. He looked down at the familiar black Yamani characters on the floor. Then he looked to the metal doors with their animals. He walked over to the doors and touched an image of an elephant. He could not feel anything. He didn't think he would.

Enishi and Sanosuke stood side by side in the center of the room. Behind them, Shinkokami looked on, indifferent. Joren recalled that the First District had been her appointed domain. She had probably only wished to be rid of the new traveler so as to preserve the way of life in Enishijirou.

In front of king and prince stood Derek Stone, Celeste, and two other mortal men carrying western style packs. The two men were obviously part of Derek's snowboarding party, the way they looked about nervously as if they wanted to just go home and forget the whole thing happened. Joren knew they wouldn't remember anyway. Enishi would make sure of that, using whatever magic the king wanted.

Celeste was not able to meet Enishi's eyes. She appeared very sad, almost heartbroken. Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying for days. She probably had. Enishi murmured something to her that Joren could not hear. Neither lover approached the other for a last embrace or kiss. Derek tried to ignore the scene out of politeness. Sanosuke did the opposite.

The prince heir cleared his throat. "Onisan."

Enishi exhaled deeply. "The way has been cleared for you. My kinswoman shall lead your way back to the outside world. And you shall never again see the snowy peaks of this place again." He paused. His voice sounded ragged. "Farewell. Mays the stars shine upon you with favor."

With that, the king swiftly turned around and faced the door. Derek opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Before he could, Sanosuke stepped to the side to put himself between the traveler and his brother. Shinkokami came forward, whistling. She was, after all, a woman of purpose and business. She would get these mortal humans out of her domain as quickly as possible and without problem.

And so the four human mortals followed Shinkokami down the long tunnel. Joren could make out the bright blue swirls of light along the tunnel walls, activated by the presence of people. He watched down the dark tunnel until the last bit of blue was too far for him to see.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Joren was surprisingly in no pain when he awoke.

He found himself in a tent. It reminded him of the time that Neal had sent him tumbling down the slope of a mountain and headfirst into a rock. He had awoken in a tent then, too, though it was not as hot as it was now. He got up from the mat he was lying down upon and pressed his hand against his chest. He let his fingers roam over his ribs and his belly and over his sides just to be sure that everything was well.

Perhaps he had only dreamt it.

Enishi would not have shot him. If he had, then why would Joren be sleeping in a tent? He was even wearing the same shirt that he had thought he had been shot in. There were no bullet holes, no evidence at all that what had happened before his revealing flashback had occurred.

Joren slapped himself in the forehead and cursed his imagination for all the stress his mind had endured. He grabbed a nearby cap to shade his fair head from the sun and ducked out of the tent, feeling very grumpy and aggravated by the visions burned into the back of his mind.

He stepped out into the oasis next to the pool. And it was here that Joren almost had a heart attack for what he saw.

The water of the pool was red with blood.

"Have a nice nap?" Enishi called from behind him.

Joren whirled around, utterly lost and confused. "I don't understand."

"Which don't you understand? You'll have to forgive me, but you have quite a few questions running through your head and I can't sort them out for the life of me."

The white haired man was smirking.

"You're…"

"I am."

"Am I…?"

"Depends on how you look at it," Enishi chuckled.

"I cannot be dead!" Joren protested. He glanced back at the red pool. "That's my blood, isn't it?"

"It is." Enishi tilted his head to the side. "And you are not dead. You are like Liam now in a way, but I bet that's the last thing you want to hear. I had to re-initiate you into the family. A little messier than I had first planned all those years ago, but it did its job."

The blond sneered at him. "I refuse to be Joren Yukishiro. _My_ father died in a fire saving my life! I am now and forever will be Joren Stone!"

Enishi's gaze did not soften, but the tone of his voice betrayed what emotion the monarch truly felt. "I would never take that from you. I surrendered that right the moment I agreed with my brother Sanosuke to expel your mother from the realm. You _are_ Joren Stone. I do not deny that."

Joren shook his head. He tried to slow his racing heart to no avail. "How could you… If you loved her… then how could you let her _die_ in a damn fire?"

Enishi's emotionless gaze faltered for a moment, revealing a flicker of emotion recalling the event. "I did not know. I cut off my link to her when I turned my back at the gate." He took a deep breath. "It was your emotional anguish that I felt that signaled me to it. Though I had terminated my link to her, yours was still there. Never tried, never tested, but strong."

The questions were finally being answered. But Joren now wished that he lived in ignorance for the rest of his life. He cursed loudly and kicked at the sand.

"Damn it, then why? Why did you go to Tusaine and put me through all that hell? To _test_ me or something?"

"I had to. Impure blood tends to create either a great hero or a great villain."

"I am _no_ hero."

"I know."

Joren swore again. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at his blood father. "I thought my regenerative abilities were because of the Stormwing blood."

Enishi snorted derisively. "Merely an activating agent for what was already there. Honestly. You think an embarrassingly freakish bird could give you that much power? You have more than you think, you know."

Father and son stared each other down. At last, Joren walked away again, cursing and swearing up a storm. He went down to the edge of the red pool and kicked at the water, sending the pool rippling. He stomped to the other side of the pool to put as much distance between him and Enishi as possible. The white haired king remained patient, only bothering to move his eyes to watch his errant son's tantrum.

At last, his temper died down and Joren collapsed to his knees. His eyes were moist with unshed tears. He balled his hands up into fists and punched the sand.

"I can never go home again," he muttered.

Enishi perked up. "Oh? You actually want to?"

Joren did not answer.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's notes:

5-30-04

Well, there's four seasons of unanswered questions, aye? Either confirming or rejecting all those hypotheses that you nice people had developed—and I tell ya, there were some puh-retty interesting theories. . So I hope you enjoyed the chapter of revelations. Tell me what you think, email or review!

By the way, Sanosuke is also a Rurouni Kenshin character. Thought he would be a nice touch to this whole story. I mean, Enishi and Yahiko are already in it….

Onisan = elder brother in Japanese

Sulia S.


	9. Remember the Time

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 9: Remember the Time…**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13. Memories…. Nothing but memories… If you're a little abhorrent to the idea of Neal and his charming conquests, you might want to consider this R. But honestly, nothing really happens (though Neal would beg to differ).

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You swear you won't tell Kel that we brought you here?" Neal asked.

"As long as you promise not to tell Kalasin," Cleon replied.

Dom snorted. "You're both pathetic. You should be able to go where you want without a woman's permission."

The other two men exchanged looks. Dom had obviously never had a woman in his life that wasn't his mother. But his mother didn't meddle in his adult life anymore, so he had no idea what it was like to have an adult female reprimand you time and time again for doing something he shouldn't have. In either case, Keladry _and_ Kalasin could very well act like mothers—and scold like ones, too. The effect was that Neal and Cleon were paranoid of the chance that someone might see them and report them to their respective 'caretakers.'

"Let's just enjoy ourselves, okay guys? I'm finally sleeping in my own bed tonight and not Kel's couch," Cleon said. "We're in a bar, so let's drink already."

Dom shook his head. He didn't approve and he didn't plan on indulging like his two companions. He liked to drink every now and then, but since Cleon had returned home, it was _all_ the redhead wanted to do. The only reason Dom was even there was to drive them home. They would have gone without him anyway. At least he could keep them out of trouble.

As the days had gone by, things had mostly returned to normal. Cleon got his furniture back and had returned to his apartment that day. Spending a week sleeping in Keladry's couch had given both temporary roommates a deeper appreciation for privacy. It probably would have been more convenient for both parties if Cleon had stayed with a male friend, but he'd just been too lazy after settling in with Keladry.

And honestly, neither Neal nor Dom wanted a moody redhead for a roommate, even if only for a week.

"You know what?" Cleon said suddenly, as he and Neal began their first round of beers. 

"What?" Neal asked.

"Both Lalasa _and_ Roald have lost their rings before."

Cleon's two companions gave him a skeptical look.

"What in the world are you talking about?"

Cleon nudged Neal with his elbow. "Oh, come on. You remember, don't you? Lalasa wouldn't let Roald have a big bachelor party, so we just took him for a guy's night out."

Realization dawned upon Neal. "Oh! That! When, uh…"

He was hesitant to say the next part due to the name he had to mention. Cleon took the next step and did it for him.

"Yes, when Fal bet Roald's ring and lost it in a game of poker. Poker king of the world, yeah right!"

Dom sipped his soda with an expression of incredulity. "You're kidding!"

Cleon shook his head, a slightly smug look on his face. "True story."

"Did he get it back?"

"Well, there's a ring on Roald's finger, isn't there?"

Neal rubbed his chin. "Man! I do remember that! Tell me, Cleon. How did it go again?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Flashback:_

Roald looked around nervously. He trusted his friends with his life. That had been proven during their madcap adventure as fugitives that one fateful summer. But now as he stood sandwiched between Cleon and Neal in the crowded and brightly lit casino, he did not fear for his life as much as he feared for his money.

Faleron was practically waltzing on the cushy red carpet in front of them. His gray fedora was tilted on his head, with an ace of spades stuck in the band. He gestured around the numerous lights and decorations. He even indulged in wolf-whistling to a scantily and glittery clad woman walking around with drinks on a platter.

"Now, we can either start with the showgirls, the card tables, the slot machines, or the magic act—and I hear the magician is very good. Does this cute thing with doves that you can tell Lalasa about later to ease her fears and inhibitions about your last night of bachelorhood," he told them in an excited rush that caused them to take a wary step back. "So what will it be?"

"Can I try 'none of the above'?" Roald squeaked.

Neal was a little more receptive to the idea. "How about the showgirls? Let's see the showgirls! Large peacock feathers and sequins are _very_ nice."

"How did I know that was coming?" Cleon muttered, his lips curling into a smile.

Faleron rolled his eyes. "Come on, Roald. Pick! It's your night!"

Roald blushed. He was normally a pretty levelheaded and calm individual, but the entire atmosphere of the casino disarmed him. He almost wished he was at home with Lalasa and the other women, watching their chick flick. _Almost._

"I suppose the magic act doesn't sound too bad. Where is that?"

"Oh, come on. Are you sure you want to start with that?"

"You said it was _my _night."

"Well, yes, but the magic act is for when you're slightly inebriated and you can't think coherently enough to gamble."

"I don't plan on getting that _inebriated_ at all, considering how early I have to wake up tomorrow for the pre-wedding preparations."

"Oh, let's just see the showgirls!" Neal inserted, starting to get impatient.

Faleron snorted. "That's the same argument as the magic act. You can enjoy that when you've got a buzz."

Cleon frowned. "When did we start talking about bees?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!"

Roald frowned. "Can we just see the magic act?"

"I heard it was rather dull," Faleron said, hiding his mouth during an exaggerated yawn.

"Hey! But I thought you said it—"

"Does it really matter what I said? Because, after all, it is _your_ night."

"But you just—argh! Okay! Card tables! Now!"

Faleron feigned surprise when Roald stalked past him and toward the green tables. He shrugged to his two other suspicious companions. With an innocent, "What?" he followed the groom-to-be while whistling and strutting in a most ostentatious manner. Neal and Cleon exchanged knowing glances before following their gamble-happy friend.

"Has he always been that manipulative?" Neal asked nonchalantly.

"Usually worse," the redhead replied.

After a few moments, Roald was seated at a Blackjack table with his three friends at his side. After a few rounds with the casino's dealer, Faleron nodded, impressed. He looked around and called a woman over who was serving drinks. He picked up a champagne glass and toasted to his marrying friend.

"What do you know! You have a knack for this!"

"I do?"

"Indeed!" Faleron downed the contents of the glass and handed it (more like discarded it) to Cleon, who rolled his eyes.

Neal decided he would see if he had a 'knack' as well. So, forgetting all about the showgirls with peacock feathers and golden sequins, he also moved his stool beside Roald and signaled to the dealer that he would like to join. The sounds of shuffling cards and slot machine noises from all around filled their auditory senses.

Now at this time, Faleron finally found the opportunity to sneak off to what he loved best. He clapped his best friend soundly on the back. "Cleon, now you better make sure that these two don't bet everything. I could just imagine the trouble they'd be in with Lalasa."

The sharpshooter pouted. He knew that his friend was up to something, but he didn't want to point it out. In his experience, the former thief was a very different person when around something that involved cards and money. Even if it was Roald's last night of bachelorhood, Faleron could not resist the temptation to settle down into a serious game and really make an extra buck.

Cleon liked playing cards as much as Roald or Neal did, but he was really much more interested in the idea of going to the magic act. And whenever Roald and Neal had lost a decent amount of money, they too would probably be more inclined to less risky activities. As punishment, Cleon decided, he would just simply forget to fetch Faleron whenever they left to see the magician.

"Go on, dude, get out of here," he told Faleron, who immediately grinned, squeezed Cleon's shoulder, and went on his (more than) merry way.

An hour later, Faleron had completely forgotten about his friends and Roald's pending nuptials. They had long since left the green tables. They were who-knows-where enjoying themselves without him. Cleon had probably filled them in on Faleron's preoccupations, making sure to smooth over any rough patches by saying to the groom that Faleron was probably winning some money with which to buy a "really dope" wedding gift.

The former thief made a mental note to consider that use for his newly won money.

He was feeling so confident that he did not even complete his usually thorough observation of a new player that had joined the table. He was a tall man. His graying blond hair was tied back so it hung past the nape of his neck. A short-cropped graying blond beard also surrounded his narrow lips. Faleron studied the man's brown eyes looking out over a long straight nose.

He thought that the stranger fitted the description of a retired COMscreen show wrestler. He had the swagger of one that was for sure. Faleron eyed the snakeskin boots underneath the table and the golden bolo tie at the man's collar.

_What I've got,_ Faleron surmised, _is a cowboy. This ought to be interesting._ He brought his glass to his lips and took a long gulp.

He suddenly noticed something shine from the corner of his eye. His eyes flickered to it, though he continued to act as if he was studying his cards. The man wore a large golden ring on his middle finger with a green gem. Through the gem, one could make out a large black 'F' inscribed beneath.

_It was _made_ for me_, Faleron thought a little giddily. (A few days later, Faleron would think that this sort of thinking had been the cheap champagne's fault.)

After a few rounds with the new player, Faleron had neither increased nor increased his winnings by much. He had done that purposely, to avoid labeling himself as a threat to anyone else's game, the stranger included.

"Hey, mister," he called to the man sitting on the other side of the table. The dealer looked between the two with a curious expression.

"Name's Stenmun," the man said, his deep voice having a delightful twang to the syllables. Faleron liked it. But not as much as that ring.

"That's a pretty nice ring you've got there. You wouldn't be interested in putting it in the pot this next betting round, would you?"

_I've got a four of a kind. There's no way this guy can touch me. The odds are too good._

Stenmun looked his wiry opponent over leisurely. He could probably take Faleron down in a single punch. But of course, where would the fun be in that? He stroked his beard as he responded. "I might be. What sort of ring would you be throwing in if I threw mine in?"

Faleron felt the pocket lining the inside of his coat. A devilish smile graced his features. (In later days, he would call this devilish smile an insane smile.) He extracted two golden wedding bands, the smaller one bearing three petite diamonds. They were Roald and Lalasa's wedding rings, true, but he had no intention of losing them. He'd been entrusted the rings after it was determined that Cleon would probably lose them and that Neal was staunchly against all wedding-related things anyway.

"So what do you say?"

"I say you've got yourself a bet."

A few seconds later, the dealer had them lay their card hands down.

"A… a…" Faleron stuttered.

"A straight flush. Mr. Stenmun wins," the dealer said, gesturing to the tall bearded man. And there it was. Like clockwork.

_Roald is going to kill me. _

Stenmun gathered up the chips and carefully placed the two wedding bands in his own pocket. He then nodded his head to Faleron with a cocky grin and set off from the table, whistling. Faleron stayed glued to his stool for a few moments more, the blood draining from his face.

_I can't believe that just happened._

"Wait! Wait!" he yelled as he jumped up and ran after the man. He almost collided into another woman making her rounds with champagne glasses. He excused himself hastily and continued after the blond bearded cowboy.

Stenmun was standing at the edge of the slot machines, lighting up a cigarette.

"Hey, listen! Can we play again? I've got to get those rings back!" Faleron pleaded, losing his usually smooth and calm demeanor. He had just lost one of his closest friend's _wedding bands_ and the fact alone was enough to make him panic. He wasn't the type to usually panic, but this was just the sort of thing to set him off. Like a bomb.

The man laughed. He blew smoke in Faleron's face and continued to chuckle. "Well, I figured something must have been out of place for a guy to be betting a couple of rings like those. Couldn't resist."

"Please, sir! I'll give you all the money in my wallet right now if you'll just let me have those rings back!" Faleron practically begged. He was hastily retrieving his wallet from the rear pocket of his pants, but Stenmun held his hand up to signal him to stop.

"No, no. Not that."

"Then you'll just give them back and we'll forget it ever happened?"

"Now I know you ain't _that_ stupid," Stenmun replied. He puffed on his cigarette. "Tell you what. We'll make another deal."

Faleron eyed him suspiciously. "What sort of deal?"

"You see, I used to have this real nice necklace—a classy little number with a bunch of diamonds. And being such a classy guy like I am, I let my girlfriend wear it to one of her shows." Stenmun casually blew smoke into his face again. Faleron coughed. "Now that damn minx, I had to dump her not too long after because I caught her flirting with old rich men, but she's still got my necklace. Do you see where I'm going here, young fella?"

The former thief sighed. "You want me to ask her for the necklace back."

"Ask? Please, sonny, that woman doesn't give anything back! You're going to have to steal it from her!"

Faleron gulped. _Not that again._

"But you couldn't really call it stealing. The damn thing's mine to begin with!"

Trying to play off the innocent yuppie angle, Faleron held out his hands imploringly. "I don't know how to steal anything."

"Oh really, Mr. King of the Street Pirates?"

_Oh gods…._

"H-how did you know who I was?"

Stenmun shrugged. "Word gets around. You've been around this casino long enough. There _are_ cameras around, watching you. Eyes checking up on you…"

The dark haired young man rubbed his temples stressfully. "Okay, okay. Where can I find the girl?"

"She works at the other major casino: Golden Chambers. Good luck. I'll be around here, waiting for you to get back."

"What does she do?"

"She's a showgirl or something. Her name's Blayce."

[Author: Hey, I thought it would be funny, okay?]

"Oh. Um, okay. I'll… see you back here later tonight, I guess."

Stenmun laughed again. "If you say so."

Faleron walked away, wondering if he could vomit behind a slot machine without being disturbed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Psst."

Neal glanced over his shoulder briefly before returning his eyes to the performer in front of him. They had been watching the magician for a while now. The act wasn't so bad. Faleron had been right. The doves were sort of cute to watch.

"Psst!"

He turned, annoyed, in his seat to see whoever had hissed at him. He spied Faleron crouching in the aisle, beckoning him to come over. Neal turned and nudged Cleon, who in turn nudged Roald. The three men were irritated that they would have to leave the show so prematurely. They nonetheless followed their fourth bachelor party member outside the room back into the regular lighting.

Faleron was pale. He didn't appear nervous so much as he did apologetic.

"What's going on now?" Roald asked, exasperated.

The former thief licked his lips. "Well, Neal! You _did_ say you wanted to see showgirls, didn't you?"

He explained to them only the things that he thought they needed to know. So it seemed to them that he had gambled a lot of money and subsequently lost it to a man to whom he now owed a service: to steal back this necklace that an ex-girlfriend had taken with her during the split.

Roald groaned instantly, mapping out the implications of this deal. All he had wanted to do was spend an enjoyable night with the guys. He had other things to think about! Like tuxedos and his smothering parents coming up from Tortall.

"And what will happen if we don't get the necklace back?" Cleon asked.

Faleron appeared grim. "Then someone is going to die tonight." _Yeah. __Me.__ By Roald's murderous hand._

"I don't like the sound of this Stenmun guy," Neal commented, misconstruing Faleron's response. "We can just arrest him on some extortion charge. I'm sure he probably _has _one already, with your description."

"Okay then, dudes! Let's go to the Golden Chambers and see this chick about a necklace!" Cleon cheered, trying to be the optimistic can-do spirit of the group. They ignored his sprightliness (what else could they possibly call it?) and made their way out of the casino to trek across the downtown area.

The city no longer seemed as bright as it used to for the four men riding the city bus to the Golden Chambers Casino & Hotel. Save for Faleron, none of them had been all that aware of the high-rolling nightlife available in Tusaine. They had occasionally gone out to dance clubs or perhaps pool halls and bars, but never something so grand and well-invested. Coupled with the knowledge of seedy, mysterious characters like Stenmun walking about, the four men suddenly found themselves less enamored with the city than they had been an hour ago.

Neal missed Tortall. He vocalized his displeasure, and was gratified to hear that the others felt the same way about their respective homes.

Again with the exception of Faleron.

"I like it here. I'll just have to learn how to avoid…"

"Gambling?" Cleon inserted.

"I was going to say 'losing,' but I suppose I could cut back on gambling just a _little_," he replied. He ran his hands through his hair. His fedora was in his lap. "I'm quite surprised. This hasn't happened in a long time."

Roald slumped in his seat. "Well, you're not perfect."

Faleron appeared ruffled. "I beg to differ!"

They disembarked from the bus in front of the Golden Chambers. This particular casino was one of two major establishments of the kind in Tusaine, what people would consider was the rival to the casino that the men had spent their night in thus far. A wall of blinking golden lights nearly blinded them as they stepped onto the sidewalk. Several large signs advertising attractions inside appeared to be larger than the very buildings that they lived in.

At least, it seemed so. Faleron did not seem impressed. He had obviously seen bigger and better. With a little snort, he gestured for his friends to follow him inside to the lobby.

The din of noise that had been omnipresent at the last casino was here as well. There was music playing in the background. It was then drowned out by the clicking and ringing of slot machines and other delightful inventions and games that humans had devised to win money from each other.

Faleron looked around, obviously in an irritated mood. "Where in the world are we supposed to find this Blayce?"

Cleon tapped his shoulder. "Over there."

The shorter man whirled around. His eyes widened slightly. In front of him was a framed poster on the wall with many mini light bulbs surrounding it. It wasn't just any type of poster however, but one of the 3-dimensional holographic kinds that had started to grow in popularity. The poster projected the real-size illusion of a slim woman with tan skin and wavy black hair. She was also seen to be covered in a diamond covered costume accented with sheer golden material and several silken scarves trailing from the back of her waist. A veil covered the lower part of her face. It was an obvious farce on Bazhir culture.

"'Blayce the Beautiful and her Ninety-Nine Harem Sisters,'" Neal read. He coughed nervously. "Well! I think we've got her."

Cleon grinned. "You can stop drooling now, Neal."

"Do you really think there are ninety-nine of them?"

Roald elbowed both men in the side. "Let's get down to business. I just want this night to be over so we can go home."

Faleron nodded. "Well, at least we know where we can find her. She's the star, after all. She's bound to have her own dressing room, right?"

Three pairs of eyes glared at him, reminding him that this was all his fault and they weren't going to forget it.

"Right," he coughed uncertainly. "Here's the plan…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Roald looked to Cleon nervously. "I hope this works."

"I'm sure it will. Fal always figures his best plans out within seconds. Really. Trust me on that one."

"His best plans within seconds," he echoed mistrustfully. "You know, I have to get married tomorrow!"

The redhead patted him on the back. "I know, I know. Hey, if it looks like you're going to get caught, I'll sacrifice myself so you can make a run for it. Fair?"

"Thanks. Not that I'm sure that it will be of any help, but thanks."

"No problem. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The two men turned the corner toward Blayce's dressing room. One large burly man dressed in black with a gold chain around his neck was standing guard. His bulk was impressive. They had very little doubt that he was well suited to his profession, even more so than necessary for just one casino star. In another world, the man could have been an overbearing gym teacher or perhaps a lumberjack. But alas, during this particular time and place and plane of existence, he was to block the young men's path to their ultimate goal.

"Excuse me! Sir," Cleon began, looking upward about half a foot to meet the man's gaze (which was really saying something, since Cleon was the tallest among his friends). "We were wondering… are you really as small as you look from a distance?"

The look of perplexity that crossed the man's face communicated that he had no idea what the redhead was talking about. After all, he was quite the giant of men. But then both Cleon and Roald's eyes flickered downward and all became clear to the short-tempered bodyguard who then, like a cobra, prepared to strike.

"Why you…" he growled menacingly.

"Run!" Roald cried out.

It was unnecessary, for Cleon had already pivoted on his heel and turned to flee. Roald followed quickly behind. He was not terribly athletic, but fear and survival instinct gave him wings against his would-be predator. The only difference between a hunt in nature and a hunt in men was that the bulky bodyguard would have no need to eat Roald's innards after catching him. For that, Roald was grateful.

But that did not ease his mind from the fact that if this man caught the two of them, they would most likely be beaten to a bloody pulp. And Roald was not all that sure how Lalasa would take to marry _any_ sort of pulp. Even the Roald-pulp kind.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the distracted bodyguard who had abandoned his post, two other figures were stealthily making their way inside the professional showgirl's dressing room. They had no fear of security cameras because Faleron had already did a quick search with his eyes that left no detail overlooked. There would be no cameras inside the dressing room, since its occupant would most likely not want any security guards watching her undress.

Due to these facts, both men were able to release loud exhalations of relief at entering the dressing room restricted from public access.

"Hey, someone left her roses," Neal observed, picking up a bouquet and inhaling its fragrance. He inspected it for a card.

Faleron began sorting through the drawers of the showgirl's vanity table. He was thankful for the tacky assortment of light bulbs surrounding the mirror. It gave him more than enough light to complete his search.

"Makeup, more makeup… feather boas…. Eww, hot pink," he muttered absently, sticking out his tongue in revulsion. He continued his work.

"Well?" Neal asked after a while, having taken a seat on the cushioned chair a foot away with the roses still in his lap.

The former thief tried another drawer, only to discover it was locked. "Aha! I think we found the right drawer. Let me get my tools out."

Neal raised one eyebrow suspiciously. "And you just happen to carry your little picks with you even to a bachelor party? I thought you'd sworn off all that thievery."

"I did. But you never know when it could come in handy."

His companion mulled over the words and decided it was a pretty piece of wisdom after all.

There was a noise outside the door. Both men froze, instantly looking to each other in immediate shock. Faleron's lightning quick thinking told him to duck under the vanity table, where someone's legs would be had she pulled her chair up right in front of the mirror. Neal moved as well, but Faleron quietly hissed at him to stop and stay where he was.

"What?"

Faleron rolled his eyes. "Trust me! Hold the roses! You always claim to be a ladies man, now prove it!"

And yet again, one of Faleron's split-second plans came into play. It was like days of old when he had grown accustomed to thinking out every possible choice within moments and deciding which was the best. He had not used the skill in a long time and was now very pleased to see that he still had it. He was actually _more_ than pleased because it meant that he and Neal would live to see another day.

The arrangement of the room was such that the vanity table was along the wall to the right of the door as someone walked in. Yet the door was close enough to this wall that someone in Faleron's hiding spot would be well hidden as long as the observer's attention was drawn anywhere below waist level.

Against the far wall was a transportable clothing rack with numerous costumes, mostly different colored scarves or scarves with tiny rhinestones imbedded in them. Neal squashed the urge to dart behind them. Yet, he still found his feet tingling to go hide as the door began to slide open.

The woman from the holographic poster stepped through. Her gaze had been cast downward at first, so she did not see Neal until she decided to look up. Her kohl-lined eyes widened instantly. Before she could speak or cry out for security, Neal stood up from the seat and held the roses up. He presented to her his most intriguing, but non-threatening face. He'd been somewhat out of practice, but he hoped his charm was still there.

"Hello, please don't be scared. I've been waiting here for you. Miss Blayce," he said huskily. "I know I think this same thing every time I see you, on stage or walking by, but you are so beautiful that I do not know what else to do with myself but continue to look and breathe."

_Well. I'll have to give it to him. That didn't sound half bad,_ Faleron thought from beneath the vanity.

The showgirl headliner appeared to be placated for the moment. She rested her hand against her throat and inquired with a throaty voice, "Just what is your name, then, pal?"

Neal took a tentative step forward and offered her the roses. She took them into the crook of her arm. He smiled. "This admirer's name is Faleron."

_Oh, I'm going to get you for that,_ Faleron promised, narrowing his eyes warningly at his friend. Neal did not catch the look, for he was still staring into Blayce's eyes in hopes of mesmerizing her.

Blayce regarded Neal with appreciation. She reached out and touched a wavy lock that had fallen across his forehead. As she approached, Neal realized that she was getting too close to the vanity. He shifted sideways back toward the door so that her own back was to the vanity. Blayce moved accordingly, without knowing she was doing so. Below, the hiding former thief let out a silent breath of relief and proceeded to get his tools out to work on the lock. He carefully snaked out an arm from his cubby-like space and touched the drawer lock.

_As long as Neal can distract her, I can work._

"You know, I've never dated a guy with green eyes," the woman confided in Neal, giggling slightly.

Neal was suddenly remembering how it felt to be eyed like a piece of meat. He forced himself to grin. Though the woman before him was, he had to admit, _very _attractive, he couldn't help but realize that he had unknowingly developed an affinity for Eastern Yamani women. This specimen of female in front of him actually brought to mind a praying mantis—for what reasons, he had no idea.

"What kinds of guys have you dated?" he asked casually, trying to sound curious and absorbed about everything about her.

Blayce flipped her long hair over her bare shoulders. At the moment she was wearing a rhinestone studded black halter top and a very short blue skirt that shimmered silver at certain angles. The ruffles tickled his legs through his pants even as he drew closer against his own better judgment.

"Oh, just big brutes who don't know how to treat a lady."

"That's funny," Neal replied. "I always figured a beautiful woman like you would have gotten any millionaire passing through here with just a snap of your finger."

"Oh, please. I don't need to do that. I'm already rich," Blayce laughed, tossing her head back flirtatiously. "I buy my own diamonds and some of the diamonds for my girls. If the girls steal them or the hotel loses them, I collect on their value in insurance—and a little more." She giggled again. "What would _I_ need with some ugly old millionaire?" Blayce suddenly grabbed Neal's shirt and pulled him against her. "When I could have some hunk like _you_?"

She had stepped backward against the vanity and dragged Neal with her tightly so that the sudden movement trapped Faleron's outstretched arm. He stared at the woman's calf fearfully. If she moved an inch more, she would touch him.  And he was about to pop open the drawer, too!

Neal fought the urge to shriek (not only in violation of his body, as he deemed it so, but for Faleron almost being caught). He chuckled to hide his anxiety and did the only thing he could think of.

He took Blayce by the waist and hoisted her up, depositing her on top of her vanity. As soon as he did this, the showgirl took this for a delightfully aggressive move that she countered with one of her own. Namely, she pulled him forward even more and wrapped her legs around his waist. Before Neal could cry out (forgetting to pretend to be interested in her), she grabbed both sides of his face and yanked him down to kiss her.

Faleron took advantage of the situation and opened the drawer. He was grateful that Neal's legs were far enough over that he could fit his head through the given space and look inside the drawer. As he felt around the boxes, he found numerous pieces of jewelry more expensive than all his belongings combined. He pushed aside boxes filled with sapphire necklaces and gold and silver and desperately sought the heavy diamond necklace that a man like Stenmun would own just for the sake of owning it.

He finally closed his hand around a black velvet box that was long and rectangular. He popped it open one-handed. Faleron grinned when he saw the necklace inside. He took the box out and quietly closed the drawer. He withdrew his arm to put the box down in his lap. Faleron laughed inwardly as he noted the muffled sounds of pleasure coming from Blayce's mouth. He tapped Neal's foot to signal to him to get Blayce out of the way so he could sneak out from beneath the vanity.

"Hey!" Neal said breathlessly, pulling his face away from hers. "Let's go behind that clothes rack. I don't want your security guard to come in here when he comes back to find us like this."

"Right!" Blayce agreed. She licked her lips. "Last time Maurice caught me with a guy in here, he broke ten of his bones and sent him to the ER." She giggled and leaned forward to nibble on Neal's ear. "I suppose that's what I get for hiring my older brother."

Neal paled. Luckily, she didn't see it with her attention still on Neal's earlobe.

Muttering a prayer to the gods that she deliriously mistook for "dirty talk," Neal picked her up again, her legs still clamped around his waist, as he took them behind the clothes rack. Faleron quickly scrambled out and ran to the door. He pressed his ear against the door to listen for Maurice. He heard nothing. His hand reached for the button to slide the door open.

"Oh Faleron!" Blayce gasped. "You wild love monkey!"

Faleron shuddered and pressed the door button. He ran out and into the crowds of the casino.

The showgirl's head darted through the clothes rack and peered at the door skeptically.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

Neal coughed nervously. "No. Oh, but look at the time! You have to get ready for your show! I should probably go—"

"We still have time," she purred as she yanked him back behind the clothes rack. Neal gulped.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Roald and Cleon were hiding in the branches of a tree several blocks away when Faleron paged them. With the box in the inside pocket of his jacket where the rings had used to be, he walked casually up to the tree at the sidewalk and looked up into the dark shadows of foliage.

"You can come down now."

"Oh, man, do you owe us!" Cleon exclaimed as he leapt down the six feet to the ground. Roald more cautiously shimmied down the trunk instead. Both men began dusting themselves off.

The groom-to-be frowned. "Where's Neal?"

"Um… still behind enemy lines, I guess you could say." Faleron shook his head. "He'll be out in a few minutes."

Cleon clapped his hands. "So let's see this necklace that we almost got caught for! I tell you, that guy would have had us if Roald hadn't beaned him in the head with his shoe.

Faleron immediately looked down at Roald's feet to discover that the Vice President's son was indeed missing half his pair of shoes.

"Yeah, well, a guy's got to do what he can," was Roald's flushed face reply.

"So come on! Let's see it!" Cleon goaded.

Faleron beckoned them closer to block anyone else passing by from seeing. He then took out the box from his coat and opened it in front of them. At once, an intake of breath could be heard for the other two men's reaction to the diamond masterpiece in front of them.

It was a choker with triangular dips of diamonds dripping off of it. If one were to lay it out in a circle, it would almost resemble a large snowflake with all its icy glory. Each diamond shone with its own brilliance almost as if it were a source of light by itself. Faleron snapped the box shut for fear of someone watching them. He slipped the box back into his jacket.

"I need to stop by another store on the way back to the casino," Faleron told them. "A toy store, to be exact. I'm sure there's one open still. It's not _that_ late."

They were about to ask why when they saw Neal over Faleron's shoulders. The last member of their party walked toward them with his jacket slung over one shoulder. The first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. And there were obvious smudges of lipstick on his lips and jaw.

Faleron's lip twitched. "Way to take one for the team, Queenscove."

Neal shrugged shamelessly. "It was hard work, but someone had to do it."

Cleon's gaze zeroed in on a part of Neal's skin revealed by his unbuttoned shirt. "Is that a hickey on your chest?"

Neal clutched his shirt closed. "Um, I don't know what you're talking about."

He endured teases and playful shouts from his companions all the way back to the original casino they had been at that night. Now that the 'job' was over and they were out of danger, the four men found it easy again to become giddy and excited by just being with each other. They continued to joke and roughhouse on their entire trip back, even while waiting for Faleron outside of the toy store that he had broken into. (Whatever he got, he assured them that he had left money behind for it.)

Faleron went to Stenmun alone to retrieve Roald and Lalasa's wedding bands. Stenmun was very pleased with the success and offered Faleron a full-time place with him at another casino that Faleron readily declined. With one last look at the green gem ring that had gotten him (his ego, particularly) and his friends into this mess, Faleron turned heal and strode swiftly back out.

As they rode the bus home, Faleron asked Neal if he would mind investigating Stenmun at the station the next day after the wedding.

"Why would you want to do that?" Cleon asked.

"Oh, I'm sure the necklace isn't his. I bet he just wanted me to steal it from her instead of 'take it back.' While Neal was _distracting_ her," here Neal blushed and looked away, "she was talking about how she was too rich to date men for their money. And so I got to thinking that she would have no need of stealing an ex-boyfriend's necklace."

Cleon nodded. "Dude!  That's awesome! Way to fight crime, man!"

Roald rubbed his chin. "And just what makes you think Stenmun is even going to be at the casino tomorrow for Neal to go back and investigate?"

"Oh, that's because I gave him a fake diamond necklace," Faleron replied, too casually for their tastes. "I figured if he didn't _own_ the necklace, he would have not cared which of Blayce's many diamond necklaces I had grabbed. I went to the toy store and compared the real diamonds with ones I would give him. I still have the real ones with me."

He patted his coatpocket to show where they were. The other three men exchanged wary looks.

Neal glared at him. "And just what do you plan on doing with those?"

Faleron smiled at him. "Well, _you_ are going to deliver them back to her hidden among another bouquet of roses… _Faleron_!"

Neal punched him in the arm while the former thief laughed. Roald and Cleon watched them, completely muddled about the whole situation. Hopefully, Lalasa and the other women wouldn't ask them what they had done that night. None of them would be at all sure of what to say besides that the magician's doves were somewhat cute.

[_End flashback_]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dom looked at Cleon. "Is that really true?"

Neal looked insulted. "Of course it is!"

Cleon leaned toward Dom and whispered none-too-quietly, "Everything except the part where he got lucky with what's-her-name-Ms.-Ravisher."

"Liar!" Neal shouted.

"Please. The day that someone calls you 'wild love monkey' is the day that I go streaking through the city singing 'I Wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner,'" the redhead retorted.

"Oh. Wait, I thought you did that already—OW! Come on! Why does everyone always have to smack me?"

Dom snickered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note: Yeah. So I figured we needed some comedy. And I figured that one last dose of Faleron would be a nice touch. Wasn't he such a cunning little guy?

Remember to review/email! Thanks for reading!

Sulia S.

6-6-2004


	10. More Matrimony Mania

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 10: More Matrimony Mania**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13. Yeah, yeah. Yet more weddings. I think it's a good way to introduce chaos into any episode. And that's exactly what we're going to get. (But you've got to love the irony. In canon, they couldn't keep it a secret. But here, they obviously could and did.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Flyn wasn't exactly sure what to make of it.

_Just when you thought you knew your friends…_

They'd only told him last night, explaining that they thought it had been the best course of action. After all, who could forget all the publicity that went to Alanna when she married George? Though neither of Flyn's friends were as famous as the great DJPF officer Alanna Olau Trebond, by combining both their lesser notoriety, they would be quite the headliners.

It didn't excuse them from the fact that they had hidden this from Flyn for not just months, but, they bashfully revealed, _years._ Now if that didn't add injury to insult, he didn't know what would. Oh, except for the painful fact that Wyldon had been told several months prior so that he could find time off to come down for the ceremony. Yes, the very ceremony that would be privately conducted at the end of the week without anyone (save for the couple, Wyldon, and Flyn) aware.

Flyn wanted to throttle them both. But that would instigate an entire investigation from Internal Affairs that he would not want to deal with… and not to mention all the fuss that comes with murder charges and the Federal Court. So he elected not to kill his two closest companions of the last decade and instead, settled on a very (as his nieces put it) _lame_ wedding gift.

"So you haven't told anyone else?"

"Just you and Wyldon."

"Not even your Riders? Raoul, they might misconstrue that as an insult," Flyn warned.

The Mithran Marshall waved the idea off. "Pfft. They would not. I may see them nearly every day, but I'm not obligated to tell them everything."

Both men suddenly looked up when they heard a noise outside Flyn's office door. At once, there was a shadowy silhouette that disappeared beneath the opaque portion of wall below the window. Flyn narrowed his eyes. He reached underneath his desk and pressed a tiny black button.

The glass doors immediately slipped open.

"Get in here!" he bellowed.

There were several seconds of silence. Flyn cleared his throat and pounded his fist on the desk. Slowly but surely, one hand reached around the edge of the doorway and pulled the rest of the body with it. On his hands and knees, Domitan Masbolle entered the office looking as if he'd perhaps banged his head against a hard surface, perhaps the source of the noise that the two older men had heard.

"Dom, how much did you hear?" the DJPF captain asked.

"Just enough to know that my own employer—who by the way, has been like a _father_ to me—doesn't even care enough to share perhaps the most important events of his life with those who matter!" the Rider exclaimed melodramatically, hoping that the guilt he could lay on would negate the fact that he had been eavesdropping.

Raoul didn't appear at all guilty. He sighed and gestured for Dom to stand up. "What are the chances that you won't tell the others?"

"The question should be 'what are the chances that I won't tell them in five minutes,'" Dom said carefully.

"Or, 'what are the chances that I won't make you incapable of speaking in five minutes'?" Raoul countered, smiling crookedly.

Dom folded his arms across his chest and glared at his boss. "This is ridiculous, Raoul! You're getting married at the end of the week! And you've been seeing your bride-to-be for years right _under our noses_! How could you not tell any of us?"

"Oh, please. I know you overheard _that_ part of the conversation."

The younger man shrugged.

Flyn rolled his eyes. "Raoul, I think the cat's out of the bag, now. You'll have to tell the rest of them."

"But I promised Buri that it would be secret! She didn't want anything slipping to the public!" For a grown man, Flyn thought that Raoul appeared very childish, whining like a seven year-old.

"Well, it can still be a small ceremony. We'll limit it to the Riders and no one else," Flyn reasoned. He glanced at Dom. "Right Dom? You Riders can keep a secret amongst yourselves, can't you?"

"Secret! Oh, of course!"

Raoul and Flyn exchanged knowing glances.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Raoul's getting married?" Keladry echoed, eyes opened as wide as they would go. She stared with her mouth slightly open. She could not believe what she had just heard.

"Yeah. And Dom and the other Riders are supposed to be keeping it quiet."

She frowned. "Then how do you know, Neal?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut.

Keladry sighed. She refilled Neal's cup of coffee and her own. She had almost finished breakfast when Neal had come flying in with a contagious burst of energy. When she had finally gotten him to calm down, he quickly repeated everything that Dom had told him. Though Dom had intended to keep the whole affair a secret, he couldn't resist the temptations of the grapevine.

She secretly wondered how long it had taken the information to reach her from the moment that Dom had begun eavesdropping on their superiors. It turned out to be one hour and five minutes.

After speaking with his fiancé, Buri finally relented. She told Raoul that they would each have a bachelor/bachelorette party with only those who knew. By the end of the day, these parties would consist of the Riders' Own, Neal, Keladry, Lalasa (but shockingly, not Roald), Cleon, and Kalasin (how she was persuaded to attend a bachelorette party, no one knew).

The week passed by quickly. Buri still preferred to keep things so private that the actual witnesses to the marriage ceremony were limited to Flyn and Wyldon. The Riders were posted on security detail, to make sure no members of the press got anywhere near the building of the official that was joining the couple together. It went unspoken that Buri still feared that she and Raoul would become another tabloid topic like Alanna and George had been when the presidential advisors had married. She knew firsthand, since she had been the one that Alanna had vented her grievances to when it had happened.

Normally, Fianola would have been the one to talk the Federal Investigation Director to purchase an elaborate wedding dress. She was still smarting from the emotional stress she had undergone during Yuki's fake wedding, so the youngest Rider remained silent and distant from all preparations. For similar reasons, Yuki was not so excited either. Neither female Rider seemed to care that Raoul had kept such a secret from them for so long. They each wanted to be oblivious without seeming rude.

Lalasa sighed. She was seated on the couch in Keladry's living room, one slim leg crossed over another. It was almost a week later and they were on their way to Buri's for her small female gathering.

"I can't believe how quickly this is all happening. How in the world did they manage to hide it for so long?"

Keladry was in her bathroom, rigorously drying her hair with a towel. She could barely hear her Carthaki friend. "I don't know. I always saw them as a trio—Raoul, Buri, and Flyn. How Flyndon didn't know is beyond me."

"I should fix him up with someone. Maybe Daine and Numair know a woman who likes men in uniform."

Keladry stepped out of her bedroom, towel flung over one arm. "I'm not sure if he would like that, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. Hey, who's taking care of little Fal tonight?"

"Roald. I told him a father-son bonding night would be good so I could get a break."

"But what kind of bonding can he do if Fal won't remember any of it when he's older?"

"I said," Lalasa repeated through gritted teeth, "that it would be good so I could get a _break_."

"Right…"

"He thinks I've gone to a spa. I brought mud masks and a manicure kit anyway. Buri doesn't need it. Despite the fact that she's a workaholic, she has very nice nails—by the way, why doesn't that apply for you, Ms. Workaholic?—and I don't think she'll need it."

"…"

"Well, are you ready yet or what? Honestly, Kel. If you didn't take so long primping…"

Keladry looked down at her wet towel. She chose to remain silent.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There were hearty cries of salutation as the men filed through the door of Raoul's apartment. No one had any idea what was on the agenda that night. Maybe they would put on the football game. Maybe they would play cards or dare each other to do immature frat boy type stunts. In any case, Dom had one distinct objective in his mind that he decided to share with his god brother.

"Neal," he whispered, pulling him aside.

"What? Come on, let me go! Lerant and Qasim are already on the couch and I'll have to sit on the floor!"

Dom gently cuffed him in the back of the head. "Listen, would you? Look, tonight, feel free to enjoy yourself however much you want, but I want you to help me out."

"Help you do what?"

"Keep Cleon away from the booze. I'm really worried about him. Cleon Kennan on a bender is just too weird for this universe."

Neal turned his back to the group of men crowding into the living room with bags of chips and pork rinds. He rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled deeply. "Well, he hasn't been so bad while Kalasin's been here."

"And she's not here tonight, is she?"

The two men glanced over at the kitchen where Seaver and Cleon were toting six packs of beer. Dom shot a warning look at Neal.

"Oh alright," Neal surrendered. He approached the sharpshooter, taking the beer from him. With a brief and curt smile, he turned heel and chucked the box of beer at Dom. Dom caught the pack and almost stumbled into a coat rack behind him.

Raoul whistled. "Hey! Come on, boys! The game's about to start!"

Neal handed Cleon a can of soda. "Here! You'll like this."

"But I'd rather have—"

"Oh, Raoul's right! The game's starting! Let's go, man."

Cleon shook his head. Whatever game his friends were playing at, he wasn't in the mood to figure out. He joined them at the couch, sitting on the floor in front of a bowl of pretzels. His soda sat forgotten on the table.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Come on, Buri! Smile! You're getting married tomorrow," Lalasa ordered. She was holding a camera, attempting to get pictures in order to construct a wedding album for the happy (on the inside) couple.

"I _am_ smiling."

The Carthaki rolled her eyes. "Ugh! She's just like you, Kel. Both of you, smile!"

Keladry made an attempt to smile. She leaned toward the older woman and whispered. "If you don't, we could be stuck like this for _hours_."

The corners of Buri's mouth reluctantly curled into a closed mouth smile. Lalasa snapped the picture and began gushing about random sentimentalities. She was generally ignored by everyone else. There was an assortment of snack foods on the table. Whereas the men had chips and beer, the women had baby carrots, cucumbers, and ranch dip. They also had an assortment of malt beverages that tasted more like apple-flavored soda to Keladry.

There were a stack of movies that Fianola had brought. It was a betrayal to her self-imposed mourning period. The movies generally included romantic comedy plots and other such feminine hi-jinks. No one, again, save for Lalasa looked particularly thrilled.

_That's what you get when you stick a bunch of DJPF employed women in room,_ Keladry thought cynically. She sighed. "'Lasa, is there anything we can do besides watch movies?"

"Well, I would have hired a stripper, but it was so last minute that I couldn't schedule one in time."

Keladry and every other woman in the room decided to pretend they hadn't heard the last sentence.

"Oh!" Lalasa snapped her fingers. "We could tell stories! You know, about love. Like, when I had my first date with Roald… or how you met your significant other…"

"He walked in on me while I was undercover and I slapped him for staring," Kalasin announced casually, inspecting her nails as if they were infinitely more interesting.

Keladry blinked. "I never heard about that."

"No, you wouldn't have. His cheek was red for a while." The spy smirked.

"Well! I'll go first," Lalasa volunteered. If this party was ever going to start, she would have to do it herself. She settled herself down in between Buri and Keladry and flashed everyone a winning smile. And so she began her tale.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Well, we had just transferred to Tusaine with Daine and we were going to live with her in her home, sort of as live-in employees.

_"You mean, as maid and chauffeur," Yuki clarified._

No! Chauffeur and personal assistant. Me! A maid! Ha!

_"Just get on with it," Buri commanded._

Okay! So as we were moving into our respective rooms, we were sorting through what belongings we had acquired for ourselves in the time that we been cleared of all charges relating to the Immortals incident. We weren't fugitives anymore. And we had jobs. I didn't have much. And instead of spending my new paycheck on stupid little things, I just had Uncle Thom send me my things from his lab in Carthak.

There was a lot of rubbish I needed to get rid of. But among those things was a small blue teddy bear. My father did not give me much during my childhood, but he did give me this one thing. It wasn't all that special. Just a ratty old teddy bear with the black button eye becoming looser with time. I loved it.

When I was rearranging my room, somehow, the teddy bear got tossed into the bin with the other things I intended to send to the local charity. When I found this out three days later, it was late at night and raining outside. I felt so much like a child then, being bothered by the thunder and wanting just my teddy bear.

I went into the kitchen and made myself a mug of cocoa. Roald must have heard me, because he came downstairs in whatever he wore to bed.

_"Whatever he wore? Does that mean 'just boxers' or perhaps full cartoon pajamas regalia?"_

That means I don't remember, Yuki!

_"Sure. Whatever you say, princess."_

Anyway, he saw how upset I was and volunteered to go to the charity first thing in the morning. Now, you might remember this time. We had only been in the city for a week or something and it had been raining hard for two days straight, almost like it was never going to end. Daine opted not to go to her downtown office that whole week and just worked from her private study at home.

I didn't expect him to follow through on his promise while it was still raining cats and dogs. So I pretended to have forgotten all about it and busied myself helping Daine organize her study. I was stuck shelving books and alphabetizing loose files. Now _there's_ grueling work, people.

_"We should tell her about the cop chase through the manure plant."_

_"Fia, I had finally started to _forget_ about that."_

_"Sorry, Yuki."___

At ten in the morning, I decided to go into the kitchen to get a snack. I passed through the hall and through the living room to get to the kitchen. Where lo and behold! Roald was sitting on the floor, covered in a blanket. He was soaked from head to toe. He was making a puddle on the carpet! His poor teeth were chattering.

And on the coffee table was my teddy bear! Perfectly dry and looking as if someone had cleaned him, too! The button eye was sewed back tight again and everything! At that point, Roald started sneezing. Four times in a row. Poor guy. I hugged him, despite the fact that he was freezing cold and completely wet. And then I fixed him some chicken soup. It was the sweetest thing he ever did.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I always figured my brother for a chivalrous romantic," Kalasin murmured. "If not a sensible one."

"Okay! So who's next?" Lalasa asked, practically bouncing from sheer excitement and anticipation.

The remaining women glanced at each other, no one wanting to come forward. No one expected Fianola to be the next one. They all knew she was still grieving. The dark circles under her eyes as well as the pale pallor of her skin all told the tales for her. Her curly hair was tied back in a simple bun and her clothing was not as bright as it usually was. She wore somber slate grays or dull blues. She hadn't tried to appear pretty with the exception of Yuki's fake wedding.

So of course it surprised the rest of them when she raised her hand a little.

"I remember some really nice times with Fal."

They stayed silent. What were they supposed to say? Keladry gave her an encouraging smile, prompting the youngest Rider to clear her throat and continue.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We had just starting dating. I knew he had been very reluctant to date me because he was several years older and it looked like I had just gotten out of high school. For some reason, Fal also believed that no girl would ever be interested in him because he can be so sarcastic and insulting sometimes. But I knew he didn't really mean it. It was just how he had trained himself to act after years of being ignored by his parents and shut up in a prep school… and then to become the witty leader of a street gang. I mean, I understood where he was coming from.

I decided to take him to an ice skating rink. I thought it would be fun. I hadn't been ice skating in years on account of the fact that I was training with my dad in the movie stunt trade. Since I had the Riders van and he had no car, I picked him up from his apartment.

_"Hey, how come he got his own place and we had to live with Daine?"_

_"Well, you were her maid and Roald was her chauffeur. He was just an office lackey," Kalasin replied._

_"I was not a maid! I folded her laundry and answered her door out of the kindness of my heart!"_

Can I continue?

_"Oh, sure, sugar. You go right ahead."_

Well, when I picked him up, he was sitting in front of his apartment building on the steps. He had a deck of cards with him, and he was continually shuffling them. Fal's hat was tilted forward on his head, so he didn't see me until I sat down beside him. I caught him off guard, because he stumbled with the cards mid-shuffle and they went everywhere. So we played a quick game of 52 Card Pick Up and went on our way.

It was a fun night. He didn't know how to ice skate, so he held my hand the whole time. We fell down so many times. He would start to stumble and I would try to catch him. Even though he wasn't much bigger than me, I still couldn't hold him up so we ended up on our rears more than half of the time. It was nice though.

_"Having cold and damp clothing from falling on the ice?" Buri frowned._

No, I was referring to him holding my hand the whole time. A little clammy, but that was just because he was nervous. It was a little weird to see him so anxious. You guys know what I'm talking about. The man was always so laid-back and smooth. He was so clever. It was weird seeing someone who was so… "with it"… lose his cool because of me.

It was flattering, I guess. Even after we left the ice rink, he still held my hand. He held it for almost the rest of the night.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I like your memories of him," Keladry whispered, filled with sudden nostalgia.

"Me, too," Lalasa added.

A long silence followed. In each woman's mind, they were either recalling their own memories of Faleron King or imagining the loss of their own significant others. They prayed to whatever gods were listening that they would never have to endure that same tragedy. But especially with their occupations, they knew there was a very high chance of it happening to them as well.

Lalasa broke the silence. "So! Um… Kally, dear sis-in-law, do you have any love stories you want to share?"

"Do I have any? Surprisingly, yes," Kalasin answered coolly. "Do I want to share them? No. You heard I slapped Cleon when we first saw each other. That's all you're getting for free."

"Um… okay." In these sorts of circumstances, she understood well enough that it was best not to incite Kalasin into anything unless one was prepared to accept the consequences. She turned her gaze to Yuki. "What about you?"

"I guess…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We were at my place watching a soccer game. I don't think I've changed the channel on my Holoscreen in months. It's just stayed on the sports channel morning, noon, and night. Anyway, the other Riders were out doing something. Probably at the pool hall or doing whatever it is that they do. Karaoke bars and motorcycle races at the city raceways.

_"Karaoke bars are fun," Fianola defended._

Sure they are… So Lerant and I were just watching a game on the Holoscreen, trying to figure out how loud we could possibly make it before Stefan called us to complain.

The game ended. We were disappointed that our team lost. Then began a long series of commercials for junk food. We were out of junk food. With no junk food and no game to watch, we started to get very bored. Then Lerant turned to me and asked if I wanted to make out. And I said yes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"…That's it?" Lalasa asked.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Oh, come on, nothing romantic?"

"There's nothing romantic about either him or me. We never even said the words 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' until my parents came and I _had_ to use the words." She stopped and frowned. "I'm not even sure we are dating."

Buri raised one eyebrow. "How can you not be sure?"

"We don't talk about it."

"And why don't you talk about it?" Lalasa pressed.

Yuki shrugged. "None of us really cared about defining anything. We've kind of lapsed into a repeating loop. Which is fine with me. If I want romance, I'll change things, but I'm really content right now."

Half of the women in the room looked at the Yamani girl as if they didn't believe her. Yuki dismissed their looks and started munching on some of the snack vegetables set on the table. Lalasa sighed and decided to move on. They wouldn't get anything else out of Yuki that night. They did, however, wonder for a long time afterwards if Lerant shared the same shortage of sentiments.

"What about you, Buri?" she asked, gently nudging the older woman beside her. "You are, after all, the guest of honor."

"Yeah, don't remind me," Buri muttered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was a long time ago, when all three of us had climbed the ladders quickly and publicly. You could look up all the newspaper headlines we made. We went out occasionally to lead big operations like the one at Golden Lake with Alanna. Flyn and I were a year away from becoming stuck behind a desk for administrative positions we'd schemed for. Raoul would continue to go on romping around as if he were still early-twenty-something. And we wouldn't.

So Flyn was at home because he pulled his hamstring. Raoul and I went out drinking because we had nothing else to do. We got drunk, shared a taxi home. One thing led to another. Years went by. We kept it under wraps because we didn't want the press to make a big deal. Alanna was pregnant for the first time and the reporters were just all over her. It was for the best.

And that's really it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"That's it?"

"Wow. That must have been a long time ago. Isn't Thom her oldest? He's already a teenager!"

"Yes, I know how old I am. Please do not bring up the subject, Kel."

"Sorry." She pouted. Something had been on her mind that whole week. "Buri?"

"Yes?"

"What made you want to get married only now? Why not before?"

The Federal Investigative Director brushed her dark hair from her face. Her gaze was on something far away. It wasn't exactly wistful as much as it was contemplative. She finally blinked and refocused on the friends surrounding her.

"I don't know. I never thought about it before. I suppose attending Lalasa's wedding and then Yuki's got me to thinking. There aren't many men in my life. And of the select few, I find that I am most calmed and relaxed with Raoul. He makes me feel at ease in this life of crime-fighting, if you want to call it that. Even if he's always on the road."

Yuki chuckled. "Trust me. When he's on the road with us, he always complains about wanting to go back to Tusaine. I'm sure he misses you."

"And… I miss him," Buri admitted. She didn't blush. Keladry didn't think the other woman was capable of blushing. But if she was, now would probably have been the only time any of them would have ever seen her blush. However, there was some uncertainty in Buri's eyes.

Lalasa pounced on the last person to say anything about her love life. "Come on, Kel! Tell us a good one to end on!" She grinned. "Something very juicy about Stone—" She stopped when she realized what she had said and clapped her hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry! I meant…"

Keladry did feel a twinge inside. A little constriction I her chest, but she hid it well. She smiled and squeezed Lalasa's arm to assure her friend that no damage had been done.

"I don't really have any stories. For either of them. They were both sweet in their own ways. I don't think I should compare them."

She didn't know what else to say. It didn't seem fair to compare them like she used to when she had initially begun dating Ulliver. Luckily, her friends took Lalasa's bumble as an excuse not to grill her for any anecdotes. Keladry dove for the remote on the coffee table and turned the Holoscreen on.

"Hey! Let's watch one of those movies, okay?"

Eager to erase the awkwardness, everyone else readily agreed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Keladry was a little glad that she was not going to the small ceremony. She had gone home last night in a less than happy mood. She had enjoyed spending time with the other women. She had not done something like that in a very long time… or ever, actually. But all the talk about romance or the lack thereof had been a bit of a downer.

She didn't want to recall anything particularly romantic that Joren or Ulliver had done for her. She didn't want to think about love. She didn't want to think about anything at all. This was quite an impossible task, so Keladry found herself awake for half the night. Since she had spent the whole evening watching romantic comedies, she was tired of the Holoscreen. So she organized her drawers instead. She went through her closet and ferreted out the things that she would get rid of. Perhaps donate to charities, like Lalasa had mentioned.

She didn't want to think about how empty she felt.

Now it was morning and Keladry was finally dozing off in her bed. However, this did not last long. Her pager began vibrating on her nightstand. Keladry warily opened one eye and glanced at the tiny screen.

_Who would call me in the morning?_ She thought grumpily as slid out of bed and went to her COMscreen. She was sure to only turn the audio on so no one would see her baggy eyes or her bed-head.

"Hello?" she croaked.

"Hey, Kel! Have you seen Buri?" Neal's voice asked anxiously.

It was like an injection of caffeine in her veins. Keladry snapped fully awake. "What?!"

"Have you seen Buri? Raoul called. She's late! …_Really_ late."

She finger combed her hair as she tried to figure out where Buri could be and why she wasn't at her own marriage ceremony. Keladry glanced at her digital clock. "Okay, okay. Um, I think I know where to find her. You just call Raoul back and tell him to wait."

"You know where to find her?"

_If she's anything like me… _"I'm pretty sure I know. Just tell him to sit tight, okay?"

"Gotcha!"

Keladry ran to her closet and pulled on the first thing she could find. It was a jogging suit. She rolled up the sleeves of the hooded jacket and quickly tugged on a pair of running shoes. She had a sneaking suspicion she would be running to get to Buri in time. Every minute that went by would be a crucial blow to Raoul's feelings and she knew it.

Twenty minutes later and a lot of hard thinking found her pulling up outside the DJPF station. She parked her motorcycle and ran up the steps. She ran straight past security, eliciting an undignified cry from her fellow officers at the desk. At least they recognized her and wouldn't chase after her to get identification. The fact that she was in her jogging suit and sprinting at top speed seemed to signal to everyone to let her go without warning.

She skidded to a stop in front of the elevator and pushed the down button. When she saw that the elevator was at one of the top floors of the station, she growled softly and decided to take the stairs. Keladry shoved through the stairwell door and practically fell down the stairs at the rate she was taking them. She started jumping steps two—almost three—at a time in order to get to the lower levels of the station.

At last, she burst through the door leading to the shooting gallery. She could hear one gun going off at the very end. All the shots hit the target at the opposite wall dead on. Keladry tried to look past the stalls to see who was there. She ended up running again, continuing to work up a sweat.

_Well, it's the best run I've had in a while._ _Maybe I can talk the next girl I know getting married to jilt so I can run to talk her out of it._

"Hey! Buri!" she hollered over the noise of the gunshots.

The stocky Kmiri woman lowered her gun and turned to see who was screaming at her. She took off her gear, including protection for her eyes and ears. Buri was also wearing a simple sleeveless white dress that came to her knees. It seemed completely out of place with her surroundings.

"Kel?"

"Buri, ma'am, why aren't you at the Justice's office with Raoul?" she asked breathlessly. She finally stopped and leaned against the stall to rest.

"I…" Buri began. "I don't know. It's just… it's just this feeling that I have. I don't know if this will really work. I mean, look at us! We're just too workaholics who—"

"Been sneaking around in janitor's closets for something close to fifteen years?"

"I object. We never used janitor's closets."

"Okay. Vans with tinted windows. Whatever. Buri!" Keladry scolded her. It felt weird talking so boldly to a person of superior status. "There is a man waiting for you who loves you with all his big heart! Just go! There's nothing to think about!"

"I know."

"Then go!"

"I…"

"BURI! He loves you! You love him! That, in my mind, is more than enough reason to go through with it!"

Buri gazed at her wordlessly for a few moments. Had she actually yelled at Buri? _Screamed_ at a superior member of the DJPF? Buri handed Keladry her gun and nodded. There was a hint of humor and mischief in the other woman's eyes that Keladry had never seen before. She smiled at Kel, an open mouth, toothy smile that was almost a grin.

"Alright, Mindelan. Whatever you say. You give some pretty good advice. Good, basic advice." She laughed. "I suppose I just needed someone to yell at me. It's been a while since someone did that, me being a boss and all. Thanks. For the yelling and the advice."

"Good advice? Me give good advice about love?" Keladry pouted.

"Yeah," Buri replied. "And I'm sure you'll have a wonderful love life."

Keladry's gaze softened. _Maybe someday. I'm not sure what to make of it now. It's… so…_ Her eyes widened slightly when the realization hit her. _One-sided._

Buri was already walking toward the door. Keladry blinked in confusion. She exhaled deeply and picked up the headgear that Buri had discarded. She fitted the set over her ears and the safety goggles over her eyes. She lifted the gun up and decided that this would be the perfect time to let off some stress.

_Bang._

I work too much.

_Bang._

I don't know how to be romantic and he has to do all the charming himself.

_Bang._

Have I seen him all week, let alone talked to him?

_Bang._

A relationship with Joren wouldn't be much better.

_Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang._

Keladry cursed when she discovered her magazine was spent and threw the gun on the floor in a fit of annoyance. Her face remained blank and emotionless.

_But I would still choose him if he came back._

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's note: Oh wow. We are two episodes away from the end. Hmm. Now that's weird. I know the season has been one long suffer-fest with every character feeling some sort of anguish now and then… but I think it comes with the maturity of relationships. Whether they like it or not, they are not the young adventurers they used to be. They have to deal with things. With lots of things.

Hope you enjoyed reading! Tell me what you think!

-Sulia S.


	11. Sunkissed

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 11: Sun-kissed**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13. Just another day at the beach, eh?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Why are we here again?"

"To enjoy the beach before it gets too cold! Oh, come on! We had so much fun at Seastone the last time we were here," Neal said to his best friend, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Keladry appeared as if she wanted to be elsewhere, but she reminded herself that Ulliver was getting their bags. Ulliver was here with her and he certainly deserved a vacation.

In celebration of Raoul and Buri's marriage, Flyn had allowed Keladry, Neal, and Cleon to have a weekend off. Raoul was already sending his Riders to Seastone while he was on his honeymoon. They wouldn't be able to do any work without him anyway, so it only seemed logical to let them have their fun.

Kalasin was also there. She had been secretly irritated by the baby's crying at her half-brother's home. And though she enjoyed spending time with family, she would rather be in a quieter place where she could not be bothered. That being the case, she accepted her boyfriend's invitation to come to the Seastone Resort without much hesitation.

Even Ulliver and Wolset petitioned for a vacation. Flyndon, who was completely recovered from his disappointed and excluded mood prior to the wedding, was in such a good mood that he permitted a series of vacations for many of the First Class and Second Class DJPF that did not work regular shifts.

"Woohoo!" Dom whooped as he ran up besides Keladry and Neal. "I can't wait to hit the waves! This is the best time to surf, don't you know that?"

"Not really. We're not big surfers," Kel pointed out.

The Rider waved them off like it was a purely insignificant fact. "Well, we're going out to the shores as soon as we can. All of us! So as soon as you get your stuff settled in your rooms, come on down! We still have plenty of daylight left."

He waved to Ulliver, Wolset, and Qasim before running off in another direction. The three men had volunteered to take care of everyone's baggage. A bellhop from the resort came out the main doors with two trolleys for all the bags. Together, they got everyone's bags and wheeled it inside. Keladry waved to Ulliver as he passed by. He grinned and blew her a kiss.

"Well, well, well! I guess I shouldn't make any plans with you tonight, should I?" Neal observed, giving her a wide grin.

Keladry smacked him lightly on the back. "You just keep your eyes set on all the women you want to flirt with. I'm sure you'll have plenty of plans soon."

"Thank… the… gods," Neal laughed. He matched Dom's wild cry of excitement with one of his own. It set off a chain reaction of whoops and hollers from the other Riders.

"Where are Cleon and Kalasin?" she asked, suddenly noticing who was not accounted for.

"Oh, I think they already checked in. They're probably walking along the beach or something."

"Have you… noticed any change?" Her tone was apprehensive, almost worried.

Neal's face turned serious. "Yeah. Subtle things. I think I heard him laugh today, but I was half asleep on that ferry, so I'm not sure. He's been dry, at least, since Kalasin came home. Dom and I trade turns checking his apartment for bottles and cans."

She nodded. It was a very unnerving thing for someone to have to make sure the most optimistic, peppy person he or she had ever known was binging or not. Keladry was bothered by a lot of things those days that assured her early white hairs from stress. But in comparison to her relationship mentality with Ulliver, the last contact from Liam, the weddings, and Joren's disappearance… she still considered Cleon's grief to be the most troubling.

It just wasn't right.

After they had checked in and gotten their bags into their respective rooms, the group from Tusaine was finally able to relax on the sandy shores after their long trip. They had taken a scenic train ride all the way down to the coast before taking the ferry across the Great Inland Sea. Their schedule had kept them traveling most of the night and the next morning. The reward for their traveling persistence was that it would still be daylight for another hour when they arrived.

And just as Dom had said, he and the other Riders were diving into the surf as if they had been there all day. Cleon and Kalasin were still missing, most likely having gone to have some privacy to themselves. Wolset had brought a football and was now tossing it back and forth with Neal, allowing Ulliver to join Keladry at her blanket.

He eyed her oversized T-shirt and her dark blue sarong. "Are you going in for a dip?"

She shook her head. She lifted up her sunglasses to rest on top of her head so she could see him better. "It's too late in the day. I'll go in tomorrow."

Ulliver flopped down beside her on the blanket. He had put on his swimming trunks, assuming that she was going to swim with him. He wasn't too disappointed. She was right. They had the rest of the weekend to swim. He stretched out beside her.

Keladry couldn't help but notice his finely sculpted abdomen and the bronze tan he had acquired over the summer.  He told her that his team often had shirtless barbecues during the summer because of the heat. A lot of the men on his team were from further north and were more comfortable with colder weather.

"And the women?"

"They wear tank tops," he assured her, kissing her elbow which was near his mouth. Ulliver sat up and reached forward to grab the book that was in front of her. "_Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance._ Is this yours?"

"Oh, no. It's Qasim's book. I just borrowed it for today."

He pushed the book away and put his arm around her waist. She had a vague impression that he wanted her to take off her large shirt so he could see the bikini that Lalasa had bought her the last time they had been at Seastone. She snuggled closer to him while he nuzzled her neck.

"Am I boring?" she asked suddenly.

His head snapped up. "Who the hell gave you that idea?"

"No one. I was just thinking. I've barely talked to you these last two weeks."

"So?"

"So… don't you get bored?"

Ulliver scratched his head. He rubbed her lower back in small circles. "Nah. I'm too busy myself to get bored." He swatted at her behind which elicited a jerk out of Keladry. "Screw it. We've already had this conversation a thousand times before."

She colored slightly. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing already!"

"I know! I know! Sor—Oh, right. I won't say it."

"Good."

"Okay."

"Fine."

"Sure."

With a suppressed laugh, Ulliver put both his arms around Keladry and kissed her soundly on her cheek. Keladry knew this was her cue to turn her head and kiss him back, but she resisted for some reason. She let him hold her and rested her hands on his arms to put up the pretense of liking his touch. But she didn't respond with flirtations of her own and it bothered her why she couldn't bring herself to do it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lerant was sun burnt the next day. Seaver called him a lobster. Dom clucked his tongue like a scolding mother hen. Fianola giggled a bit. And Yuki found herself volunteering to the task of rubbing cooling ointment over his back to ease his discomfort. His teammates sentenced him to the shade for the rest of the weekend. Lerant wasn't just sun burnt. He was very grumpy, too.

"It's your own fault," Yuki reprimanded, rubbing the ointment across his back. She massaged him as well, hoping to ease him out of his ill disposition. "Why didn't you put on sunscreen?"

"We only had an hour of daylight left. I didn't think it would be so bad!"

"Your skin is just as fair as mine. You should always put it on, especially since we're down here where everything is hot from sun up to sun down."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother."

Yuki massaged his back for a few more moments before scooting back to her spot beside him. She did not lean against him like others would have expected her to have done. Instead, she hugged her knees to her chest and looked out at the water coming gently up the shore. Their friends were playing amongst the sea foam, blowing it at each other and splashing each other relentlessly. In the distance, Dom and Seaver paddled around on their rented surfboards waiting for a decent wave to roll in.

"Do you see how the sun shines on each wave crest? You can't even see blue-green anymore. It just… glitters. Like a ruffling sheet of diamond," she said.

While she had spoken, he scooted closer to her and squinted. The stand of their large beach umbrella was jostling about, so he grabbed it and dug it deeper into the sand. "I didn't know you were so poetic."

"I'm not being poetic. And why wouldn't you know if I was poetic or not? You know me well enough, don't you?"

He turned to her with an earnest countenance. "No, I don't."

And therein lay the problem. Yuki tucked her hair behind her ears and rested her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes and then pressed her face down against her knees as well. "So do you want to? Know, I mean."

"Well, I was thinking about it when we were standing outside while Raoul was getting married," he confessed. "And yeah. I do want to know more about you."

Yuki looked up and directed her gaze back out at the sea. "You know what that means, right?"

"Yeah. I'm ready. Is that okay with you? We could stay just where we are if you want."

She reluctantly recalled the night she had spent with Buri and the other women recounting tales of love. Everyone else's had had some emotion in it, even Buri's short story. Kalasin had shown none that night, but it was obvious that she cared for Cleon Kennan. It was difficult for her now to say she was as content as she was that night. Everyone around continued to subconsciously tell her that she would be better off if she let _it_ in. Let in love.

The warm sea breeze passed over them, throwing strands of her ebony hair up. Yuki made no move to brush them back, but gave the man beside her a significant look. He had her permission. Lerant started nervously, fumbling to move even closer. He lifted one hand to move her hair from her face and let it linger at her neck when he finished.

"Lerant."

"Yeah?"

Her voice had been so small that he had almost not heard it. Yuki looked back out at their friends romping in the waves. She let her hand fall to the ground between them.

"Go ahead," she whispered, tucking her chin down to her raised knees again.

He blinked, not expecting for her to coalesce so quickly. He took her hand in his and they sat there in silence for most of the morning.

Elsewhere, the seagulls were cawing and Kalasin was wishing they would either shut up or go away. The world class spy was currently arm in arm with her current boyfriend, her first boyfriend, Cleon Kennan. They had met under strenuous circumstances during the Immortals crisis. After such time, he had begun to court her unsuccessfully, for she would have little to do with someone she had earlier conceived as silly and shallow. He proved her wrong after a period of time and won her over with the most peculiar of things: a stuffed hippo.

Now they were dating. And more than that, they were _involved._

"You look really nice. Nicer than yesterday, if that's possible," he said honestly, a tender smile on his face.

Kalasin returned his smile fondly. For a hardened assassin as she could be sometimes, there was a purity in him that drew out the warmth in her.

"Kalasin?"

She looked up to meet his eyes. Instead, his gaze was transfixed out on the waves, where Prosper had playfully tossed Fianola into the water. The curly-headed girl buoyed back up to the surface and, together with Seaver, attacked him.

"Yes, Cleon?"

"Do you think Fia will be okay?" he asked quietly.

They stopped walking. Kalasin noticed that Cleon was subconsciously digging his heel in the sand like it was a substitute for a worry stone. She gripped his arm tighter to catch his attention. He broke his gaze and turned his head toward her.

"She looks fine," Kalasin answered. She paused and stroked his forearm. "And so are you."

"Am I?"

"You look fine to me."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. You didn't see me the first days I was home."

She stared at him reproachfully. "You were mourning for your friend. You're _still_ mourning. That's okay. It hasn't been that long."

Cleon mumbled a curse. "It has! It has been a long time, though. He and I… we talked about it before he… I'm just…" He exhaled deeply. "I know he wouldn't want me to be like this for so long, but I can't help it."

Kalasin thought for a moment. She began walking, forcing him to walk beside her since their arms were still linked. She patted his arm. "Tell me a joke, Kennan."

"What? A joke?"

"Yes, a joke."

"Why? Jokes aren't any good. They're just stupid—ow!"

He had been under the delusion that she would stop hitting him when they started dating. Kalasin now smirked, rubbing the part of his arm that she had struck a few moments ago.

"I said, tell me a joke, Kennan."

He frowned at her. "But I just said that jokes are meaningless—"

"Kennan!" She raised her hand again, ready to strike.

"Okay, okay! A joke!" Cleon surrendered. He stared wide-eyed at his girlfriend wondering what in the world had come over her. He racked his mind for something humorous to tell her. And despite the many weeks that he had spent dwelling on death and misery, he found it easier than he expected to pick up the old threads of a lifestyle that he had almost fully cast aside.

Much easier than he expected. Cleon cleared his throat.

"So an officer, a criminal, and a high priced attorney walk into a bar…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wolset frowned when he saw Neal suddenly abandon the group's frolicking in the waves for the shell-covered shore. He followed his partner, wondering what had suddenly caught the other man's eye. Neal had a grin plastered on his face, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance further down the beach. Wolset ran up to him as quickly as he could with the shifting sands and water sucking his feet down.

"Hey! What's going on?"

Neal grabbed his arm and yanked him to his side. "Just take a look."

"Yeah? A bunch of people are playing volleyball."

"Correction, Wolsie. A bunch of _women_ are playing volleyball. Young, voluptuous… _bouncy_ women," he observed. There was a glaze over his green eyes that his companion had never seen before.

Wolset raised one eyebrow. "And? We've got no shot with them."

"Ha! That's what you think! Come on, Wolsie! They're waiting for us!"

Before Wolset could call him crazy, Neal had started jogging ahead. His new partner sighed. He seemed as if he would rather just admire the women from afar, but being around Neal told him he would have to be a lot more outgoing than he was accustomed to. He wondered if Cleon ever had to deal with this sort of sidekick treatment.

_There'd better be fringe benefits,_ he thought.

By the time he caught up with his friend, Neal had already made up a few lines of dialogue in his head for this encounter. He stopped Wolset and turned him around. Placing both hands on his shoulders, Neal showed him his smile of ambition and anticipation.

"You have a plan?"

Neal shook his head. "Nope. You think too much like an officer, man. A plan? You want to know what the plan is?" He pointed to his own chest. "Let me do the talking. Just stand there and don't look like an over-eager spaz."

"Hey!"

"I never said you looked like one," Neal clarified at Wolset's indignant reaction. "I just warned you _not_ to look like one."

The two men approached the informal volleyball game at a more leisurely pace than they had originally had. There were six young women of various appearances. They looked like they were of university age, which Neal delighted in even more. In his experience, the female sex were more inclined to be more adventurous then when they were older and more experienced (a progress that resulted in Neal being turned down time and time again).

He walked over until he was a few feet away from the end of the net. "Hello, ladies! Mind if we join in?"

One of the young women who had on a slimming black one piece swimsuit caught the volleyball and held it under one arm. She tossed her wet brown hair over her shoulder and scrutinized the two newcomers from head to toe. Her friends either smiled or giggled. Whatever they said, it was blatantly obvious that this woman would decide whether they stayed or went.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Neal and this is Wolset. Just call him Wolsie." To emphasize the fact that they were harmless chums, Neal slapped Wolset on the back. Wolset flinched, but he continued smiling.

She put a finger to the corner of her mouth as if she was considering. "What do you do when you're not at Seastone?"

"Oh, we're DJPF officers," Neal answered. "First class, too. Special assignments all the time."

There was an outburst of giggles from one of the other black-headed girls who immediately whispered something to the nearest girl. Neal's grin widened. He held out his arms in a pleading gesture.

"Come on, ladies. Wolsie and I get stuck dealing with the vile scum of society. We barely ever get the chance to enjoy the company of beauties such as yourselves."

_Man, he's laying it on thick._

"Man, you're laying it on thick, aren't ya?" the girl in the black swimsuit laughed.

Wolset's heart immediately began thudding very hard in a most bothersome manner.

"Well, alright. Join in. We'd be glad to have you!" She tossed the ball at Wolset, who stumbled when he caught it (he was surprised he hadn't pissed in his pants). "My name's Tian."

Wolset gulped. He absently made a mental note to get his ears checked as soon as he returned to Tusaine. Had anyone asked him, he would have sworn he had heard the distant chorus of angels singing just for him. And Tian, hopefully.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Come on, swim with me," Ulliver begged. His hands were clasped in front of him, hoping he looked pitiful enough. He would even have put on a puppy-dog face had he known how to do one.

Keladry tucked her hair behind her ears, absently thinking to herself that she needed to have a haircut before she went back to work. "In a bit. You go ahead."

He eyed her. "Only on one condition."

"What?"

"Take off that shirt! I bet you're as pale as anything under there. You need a tan."

Keladry scoffed. "What? So I could look like a roast turkey like you?"

Ulliver pouted. He looked down at himself. "Turkeys don't have abs like these."

"No, they don't," Keladry agreed, smiling slightly. The major rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, muttering how much of a jerk she was in her ear. When he got the response he wanted (a playful swat that he blocked, as per usual), he grabbed the end of her shirt at the base of her back and deftly yanked it over her head.

She let out a cry of surprise. As soon as the large white T-shirt was loose from her body, Ulliver wolf-whistled at her and began a backward trot. He knew she would be after him for this joke of his. Keladry's arms immediately went across her front. She was left in her bikini and sarong and felt _too_ undressed despite the fact that she was on a beach and every other woman was even less dressed than she.

"Ulliver!" she exclaimed. Her cheeks were the reddest they had been in weeks.

He waved the shirt around like a flag. "Come get it!"

"You… you turkey!" she shouted as she began chasing him around the beach.

To add insult to injury, he began making gobbling sounds. She had no idea he had a knack for animal sound imitation, but it was making her blush more furiously than she ever wanted to. Since the sarong was impeding her movement, she finally undid the knot and threw it in the direction of her towel. The chase continued, much to Ulliver's enjoyment.

"Finally!" he cried when he saw the sarong hit the sand. As they circled around and passed her towel again, he threw down the shirt.

He started to slow down. Keladry smirked. She wanted to tackle him and tickle him to death for the stunt he had pulled. Instead, he caught her off guard once again by whirling around and catching her. He hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of rice. She let out a huffy squeal of indignation and pounded her fists against his back.

"I was right. You are way too pale."

"Ulliver!"

Ignoring her exaggerated threats of death and dismemberment, he walked into the waves with her still over his shoulder. Dom and Seaver saw them from afar and gave encouraging shouts to Ulliver, who waved in return. Keladry lifted her head and turned slightly to give them an obscene gesture.

"Let me down, Ulliver!"

"If you say so!"

Before she knew what was happening, he abruptly dropped her into the water. Keladry scrambled to her feet, sputtering. They were waist deep. She looked up into her boyfriend's laughing face and thrust her hand forward, splashing him.

Afterwards, it was not so hard for her to enjoy herself. The couple eventually wandered closer to where the Riders were. An impromptu game of chicken was started. Keladry sat on Ulliver's shoulders while Fianola sat on top of Prosper's shoulders. Each girl attempted to topple the other into the water. Despite Fianola's elfish size, she sent Keladry to the water twice, experienced in what she termed "chicken warfare."

The weekend went by in a whirl of games, stunts, and chases. Lerant spent his time in the hot tub inside the resort since he was starting to feel the soreness from his sunburn. Yuki, of course, kept him company. Neal joined Dom and Seaver in their surf-as-long-as-the-sun's-up activities, having been rebuffed by all the volleyball players on the beach. No one saw where Wolset was, but if someone had asked him later, he would have mumbled embarrassedly about a university student and ran away.

Keladry hit her bed that night completely exhausted. She did not notice that this time around, there wasn't any roommate to accidentally awaken. No dreams of certain blond men only wearing sweatpants. No Lalasa goading her into buying yet another bikini. No Faleron and Cleon having a petty squabble over nothing and making up over a game of wall ball.

On the day they were to return to Tusaine, Keladry woke up crying.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes furiously. She couldn't even remember what she had been dreaming about. No, that was a lie. She had a pretty good idea of what had flashed through her mind during her fitful slumber.

_I can't keep doing this to myself. I keep telling myself to get over it. And Ulliver helps me to get over it—but I… deep inside, I really can't. The way things were… they're gone. Forever._

She went to her bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Then she put the lid down on the toilet seat and sat. It was six in the morning. None of her friends would be awake. She had the most peculiar inclination to talk to Fianola or Yuki. Maybe even Kalasin. Had Lalasa been there, she would have talked to her, too.

_She's probably awake right now if little baby Fal is crying._ She envisioned the Carthaki woman sitting by the baby's cradle, gently rocking him back to sleep. In spite of that thought, Keladry remained in the bathroom, mulling over her predicament. She wouldn't call Lalasa and disrupt the happy bubble surrounding the happy new family.

Irony made a swipe at her that early morning. She ended up sleeping in the bath tub, craving a source of warmth to lie upon but having none.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And then they were home. Keladry had been too tired to kiss Ulliver before she went upstairs to her own bed. She hugged him half-heartedly, still bothered by the dream she had had the night before. He didn't seem too offended. He was almost asleep on his feet. Wolset promised to help him to his apartment, so she parted from them with no worries.

It was nighttime again. The sun had sunk past the horizon and the stars lit up the sky. They had spent the whole day traveling and she was quite exhausted. She had neither the time nor the energy to notice such daily wonders of nature.  With little more than a wave, she said goodnight to Neal and her other neighbors before dragging herself and her belongings into her apartment.

Weariness weighed down her limbs, it seemed, as she stumbled into bed. She almost forgot to get up again to turn off the lights. It was a grueling affair to toss off the duvet and get on her feet again. She rubbed her eyes as her hand groped for the light switch. One of these days soon she would have to ask Stefan for a voice-activated light source. Things would be _so_ much easier.

After what seemed like an eternity, Keladry was finally in a complete zone of comfort. Surrounded on all sides by soft, warm blankets and pillows, she began to doze like she had not slept for centuries. She almost entered a catatonic state. Had another one of Yuki's failed projects detonated again, she would never have known—even with plaster and brick debris falling around her.

Sometime after midnight, Keladry jerked awake. She blearily looked around her at first, noticing the ceiling and walls and the steady shadows of tree branches from through her moonlit window. She closed her eyes again and began falling back to sleep.

Then she heard the buzz to her door intercom again. Keladry deduced that it must have been the thing to wake her up the first time. Her mind was still so inactive from its restful sleep of oblivion that it did not even occur to her that no one she knew would try to wake her up at this ungodly hour at night. She almost tripped getting out of bed, her foot caught on a bed sheet. She rubbed her eyelids and made her way slowly through her living room.

Three steps from the door, she remembered that Cleon had come to her in the middle of the night.

Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes began to focus on the door in front of her.

_This party is old and uninviting…_

She raised a trembling hand to open the door. There was a small whoosh of air as the door slid open. The hall was dark. She could not make anything out at first. But after what felt like minutes passing by, her eyes adjusted again and she could just make out the dark shadow of a person.

_Participants all in black and white_

Keladry had a sharp intake of breath. She stepped back, swallowing compulsively. Her hand dropped back to her side, but it did not stop shaking. The trembling rippled through her entire body, threatening to shake her to pieces. She clenched her hands into fists as if willing to force the intruder to leave the way he had come. Disappear, disappear, disappear.

"Keladry," Joren whispered, his mouth dipping at the corners in a captivating frown. His pale skin looked like the waning light of the moon. A heavy black cloak rested on his shoulders, a mountain of darkness that he had brought as evidence to where he'd been and what he had survived. His artic blue eyes remained untainted. They alone remained—oh, what was the _word_?—human.

_You enter in full blown technicolor_

"Joren?" she breathed.

He nodded, confirming her inquiry. Her hand immediately flew to her chest, covering her constricting heart. Tears formed in her eyes, and though her lungs heaved with sudden shock and gasping, she could not cry. She could not sob. She could barely inhale the air in front of her.

"I'm tired," he told her sincerely. His voice sounded like gravel. Like dried leaves on a stormy day. "Just tired."

She gulped, blinking away the tears before they could fall. Oh, by Glory, she was going to collapse and die on that very spot on the carpet. Everyone would point to the spot when years had gone by and say that Keladry Mindelan had died of shock on that very place.

"I'm tired, too," she replied. It felt stupid at the time to say it, but he seemed to understand and stepped across the threshold into her home.

_Nothing is the same after tonight_

Like for Cleon before him, she guided him wordlessly to her room and forfeited her bed. As the cloak dropped from his strong shoulders, Keladry suddenly observed how slight and weak he had become with its casting off. A vest of rough material fell, as did his cotton shirt until she could see the muscles on his back without hindrance. Something had changed inside him, but she had no inkling as to what. She knelt on the floor and gathered the cloak into her arms as the blond crawled into her bed and toppled over. Like a mighty tree that had been cut down in the prime of life. She traced the lines of his body with her eyes, noticing the shoulder blades. Her eyes fell lower. In the ghostly light coming through the window, she examined his back. The smooth planes of muscle lay beneath flawless pale skin. One thing leapt out in her mind. There were no burn scars.

Keladry felt sick. But she stayed where she was, sitting back upon her heels and hugging his cold, slightly damp cloak to her chest. Her exhaustion was slowly creeping back into her bones. It was a chill that felt like death. It felt like his cloak and it felt like her moist hands. Death, that was. She knew she would not stay awake for long, but she felt she had to. What if this was a dream? How could he just suddenly be here without warning, without so much as an explanation?

Would he be there in the morning? Or another cruel dream?

_If the world would fall apart_

_In a fiction worthy wind_

_I wouldn't change a thing now that you're here_

_Yeah, love is a verb here in my room_

_Here in my room_

_Here in my room…_

Keladry's eyelids began to droop. She shook herself awake, though she had already partially unfolded her legs beneath her and was slowly descending upon her side. Finally, the crown of her head touched the floor and her eyes fluttered closed.

_Yeah, love is a verb here in my room_

_Here in my room_

_Here in my room…_

The morning was the most aggravatingly bright morning she had ever recollected. Keladry rolled onto her back, working out the stiffness in her right side from the way she had slept. Had her bed always been so hard? It felt like she had been sleeping on the—

_Floor._ Keladry's eyes opened immediately. She sat up, causing her head to experience a wave of dizziness. She put a hand to her temple and scrunched her eyes shut so as to ward the sensations away. What had she done last night? Sleep walk? No, oh no. It had been something else. Something else had gotten her out of bed last night. What was it?

It came back to her within the next second. Keladry glanced up at the foot of her high bed, at the mound of tangled bedspread and blankets that had been moved during the night.

No, it was impossible. She had dreamt it all. Perhaps it was a new problem she was developing. Sleepwalking. She would have to ask one of the DJPF doctors to examine her. Seaver was nearby. He would be glad to examine her free of charge.

_He's not going to be there,_ she told herself. _Why would he be? After so long? He's as good as gone. Into thin air, he went. That's where he is. Into thin air and nothingness._

But she gathered enough courage to get up onto her knees and peer over the edge of her bed.

And sure enough, there he was.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's notes:

Last episode: Pieces of a Life

It's been one heck of a ride.

Sulia Serafine

6-9-04

p.s. the last few song lyrics, noted by the are from Incubus' _Here in My Room_. The song is haunting and romantic at the same time. Kinda. Hope you enjoyed it. Listen to the song during the scene. You'll get it.


	12. Pieces of a Life

It Could Be Worse (4th Season)

**Episode 12: Pieces of a Life**

By Sulia Serafine

[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

**E-mail me at okay? **_And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are , s.serafine, or icbw. _

**Rating of this episode**: PG-13. Cursing here and there.

Author:  And so we have finally come to the end. I love you all, droogies.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She left a note that said she would be right back. What else could she do? Keladry fled from her own apartment in a panic, running in her robe to Neal's apartment. It was barely daybreak. It would take a great deal of effort to awaken him, but Keladry had to talk to someone as soon as possible. She had to make that sure she wasn't going insane.

_I saw him. He's there. Isn't he? Or do I want him to be there so badly that I'm imagining it?_

Keladry rang Neal's doorbell while she anxiously waiting for him to answer. What would he think? Neal was normally the dreamer whereas she was the voice of reason. Would he believe her? Why wouldn't he believe her? _I'm going to have a heart attack before Neal even gets out of bed!_

After a few moments, Keladry tried the doorbell again. Neal finally answered the door. He wore a tank top and a pair of flannel pants. Pillow creases marked his face. When he saw his best friend standing at his door, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and yawned.

"What's the big idea waking me up so early? Come on, Kel. It's not even seven!"

She pushed him back through his doorway and closed the door behind her. With this sudden move, Neal's eyes widened. He stared at her intently and suddenly noticed her pajamas and her wide fearful eyes.

"What was that for? Kel? Is something wrong?"

Instead of wringing her hands as she wanted to, Keladry balled her hands into fists and stood as still as she could. She took a deep breath. _He'll believe me. He'll always believe me. He's my Neal. _She licked her lips. Why couldn't she just say it? She summoned her voice and blurted it out before she lost it again. "Neal…he's home."

It had the effect similar to setting off a bomb.

"Holy shit! Oh my gods!" Neal immediately grabbed his own hair and began tugging at it in disbelief. His eyes were as wide as saucers as the implication of her words sunk in. Keladry stayed unmoved, her gaze on the floor.

She could dimly hear that Nealwas muttering to himself out of shock. He resisted the urge to pace in front of her. She expected him to react as much. They were all involved in this predicament. Joren didn't belong to her privately. He belonged to everyone collectively. Maybe that was why the blond was so torn, having been tugged every which way by different obligations and different homes. At last, Neal's strong hands rested on her shoulders to prompt her to look up. She did so very slowly, unsure of her own reaction to all that was happening.

"Are you alright?" Of course he was concerned! They were the best of friends, weren't they? Weren't they?

"Yes. No. I don't know," she whispered from the bottom of her pit of despair. A melodramatic way of thinking about her feelings, but—all things concerned—she thought the phrase was just right.

Neal took her by the arm and tugged her toward his couch. She felt like a little child because of his guidance. "Sit down. I'm going to make a few calls." He paused. "Do you want a glass of water or something? Maybe you should have sugar or caffeine. I'll put on a pot of coffee."

He dashed toward his kitchenette to fix her something to drink. After Neal set the percolator up, he retreated to his bedroom to use the COMscreen. As much as he knew that he should probably sit beside her and comfort her, he couldn't sit still even if he wanted to. His feet were on fire. He'd start pacing frantically if he didn't watch out. Neal wondered briefly why she wasn't by Joren's side. Then he remembered what she had done when Cleon had come home. She had not been able to deal with emotional confrontation. So she'd fled.

_Some things don't change after all. Still as a calm freaking lake, she says. Hmph._

He put the thought aside. Neal sat in front of his COMscreen and began dialing the first number.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cleon had slept fitfully. He and Kalasin had parted at the train station since she had to return to work in Tortall. While she was around, he felt calmer and more subdued. She had actually gotten him to laugh that weekend and to behave like he normally would. In most cases, he would have turned to his other friends now for stability. That was currently a useless idea, if one considered the fact that they were seeking stability of their own. He didn't hold it against them. He could never do that.

He was actually awake when he received Neal's call. He rolled over in bed at the first sound of the COMscreen and pressed the receiving button. His friend's troubled face appeared immediately.

"Cleon, did I wake you?"

"No. I was just thinking. What's going on?"

Neal combed his fingers through his hair. Something was not right, not right at all. "You're not going to believe this, but Stone is home."

"I see."

Cleon wasn't surprised. He appeared as if Neal had only informed him that their patrol shifts had been set back an hour, or something similar to the extent. Cleon tapped his chin thoughtfully while his friend gawked incredulously at him.

Neal was worried by Cleon's detached reaction. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Right. You go back to sleep, buddy. You look like you could use it."

The redhead smiled kindly and shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I think I'm going to get up and read yesterday's newspaper. I skirted around a few articles."

"If that's what you want," Neal replied uncertainly. He still had to get used to the new Cleon, who liked to indulge himself in serious things such as newspapers. He blinked and nodded his head again. "See you later."

Cleon watched Neal disconnect. He stared at the snowy flat screen before turning it off and sliding out of his bed. He stretched his arms over his head as he headed toward his table for the newspaper. Things didn't have to be complicated, he told himself. Things could be simple and they could be unsurprising and they could be calm just… like… this.

He pondered whether or not Stone felt calm at that moment.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wolset awoke mid-snore when he heard his COMscreen go off. He groaned to himself and rolled over, himself willing the noise that the machine made to cease. When it went sounded again, he threw his comforter over his head. It then occurred to him that his work pager might be off and someone was now trying to contact him through other means. There could be another high alert crisis on his hands, and here he was cursing in bed.

So he kicked the sheets off and stumbled out of bed. The COMscreen sat on his dresser, so he crawled across his bedroom and went on his knees just to raise his face to the screen.

"Hello?"

"Wolsie, wake up!" Neal called.

Wolset yawned. "What is it, Neal? Did something happen? I'll get my uniform on."

The banks of Tusaine were robbed again. Someone was assassinated. Urban gang war. Government collapse. Maybe something had exploded.

"No, no, you don't have to do that." Neal bit his lip. "I just called to say that Stone is back home."

_Is that all? _"What does this have to do with me?"

Wolset had never been particularly close to Joren Stone. They had spoken a few times, but mostly at the station and only in relation to work. He was just as glad as everyone else that the blond biker had returned, but he felt no need to jump up and down in celebration. What was Neal expecting of him? Maybe he'd send a "Welcome Back" cake tomorrow, but it wouldn't be a good one. Carrot cake was always good. Wolset liked carrot cake.

"Well… I was kind of hoping that you would…"

Something in his brain clicked. Wolset became more awake. He narrowed his eyes at his partner. "You want me to send the word to Ulliver."

Neal appeared guilty. At least, Wolset thought, Neal had the decency to do that. But it didn't excuse him from the fact, not by a long shot. "Hey, it's not that I don't like the guy. He's awesome. A real decent man. But, let's face reality, Wolsie. He's finished."

_Poor Ulliver._

Wolset had not befriended Ulliver until Wolset had been promoted from Second Class. He had been considering going back into training to join the SWAT team. Ulliver had been sent to talk him into it. They always looked for new recruits. But Wolset was too enamored with the idea of becoming a First Class officer at such a young age. His family had a long standing tradition of sons and daughters, whom had met their successes at relatively youthful ages.

It helped that his uncle was a Federal Investigation director in Tortall—not that he had absolutely depended on his uncle to grease the wheels for Wolset's future, but it helped. Ulliver had not thought Wolset any less of it. They became friends. Wolset became one of the few people to infiltrate the tight-knit family of the SWAT team and become a regular around their gatherings. He was Wolset's greatest friend. He could count on Ulliver through thick and thin and all that made-for-TV movie sentimentality.

Ulliver was a good man and an even better friend. It was a shame to have to bring such bad news to him.

"Yeah," Wolset agreed reluctantly. "Yeah, I know. I'll tell him." He paused. "Wait, where's Keladry?"

"Emotional purgatory on my couch."

"She ran again?"

"She can't help it," Neal defended.

"Maybe…"

"No. She'll snap out of it and Ulliver will be a passing memory. You know it."

Wolset rubbed the back of his neck. He rested his chin on the top of the dresser and sighed. It was unfair in his opinion. But the world was never fair, just bearable. He sighed loudly, causing Neal to take on his guilt-stricken look again. "Okay. I'll go over to his place this morning. But I think I'll let him sleep a little longer. They had a really, really good weekend, don't you think? We should let him relish in that for a few more hours."

"You've known him longer. Do what you think is best."

They hung up. Wolset retreated on his hands and his knees. He pulled himself into bed and threw the covers over his head. Underneath, he curled up into a ball and groaned. Why today? Why not years from now when they were all older and Ulliver and Keladry could have been married by then? Then Joren wouldn't have any other choice other than to leave again. And the status quo would remain undisturbed. Wolset figured it wasn't Joren's fault who Keladry loved. It wasn't Ulliver's fault either. But how could Neal be so sure? Was Neal the supreme authority on Keladry's love life?

Wolset groaned again when he realized that Neal practically was. He closed his eyes and prepared to drift back to sleep.

_A few more hours. Then I will send one of my best friends to his own personal hell._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Dom? Sorry to wake you, man, but St—I mean, Joren is back."

There was no pause.

"I'm coming right now."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dom arrived with an extra set of clothes draped over his arm. He had not even bothered to change after getting out of bed. It was past daybreak now and Dom and Neal were standing in the living room of Neal's apartment, the two men conversing quietly. They prodded Keladry to retreat to the kitchen where she sipped a mug of black coffee. She could not hear what the two men were saying. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. She was a complete mess inside. She didn't want to look outward at anyone else's reactions. Not just yet.

"Have you seen him?"

"No. I've been here with Keladry." Neal sounded worried about the woman in question. "Should we leave her alone?"

"You've got to have a little more faith in her than that." Dom went to the opening of the kitchen to catch Keladry's attention. He snapped his fingers. She looked up. Her appearance reminded her of a comatose patient. She wasn't all there.  "Hey, girl. You just come follow us when you're ready. Okay?"

She nodded mutely.

Dom shot Neal an apprehensive look. They left the apartment. There was nothing that they could do to help Keladry at this point. Whatever reservations she had would have to be resolved on her own. She had to get herself out of this maelstrom of darkness that she had plunged herself into. They could not and would not do it for her.

When the two men entered Keladry's apartment, they didn't know what to expect. They saw the note that Keladry had left on the kitchen table and threw it in the trash. The apartment was deathly silent. Perhaps Joren was not there after all. Perhaps Keladry had dreamt it all up. Both men trusted Keladry's perception of reality, but it seemed as if no one was there. They entered the bedroom like they were marching to their executions.

Joren was awake. He must have heard them enter. Neal recalled what a light sleeper Joren was, always wary of anyone trying to sneak up on him in the night. The blond, who was wearing only a pair of dark trousers, sat at the edge of his bed. He did not notice his visitors, but looked for his shoes and his shirt.

Dom cleared his throat. "I brought a set of clothes for you. I figured you'd want something clean after your trip."

The weary traveler looked up. He didn't speak, but he nodded. He held out his arm to receive the bundle of clothing. With another curt nod to Neal, he stood up from the bed and withdrew into the bathroom. Neal frowned and turned to Dom.

"Does something seem different to you?"

"Silent and stoic and still blond? No. Not really."

Neal sighed. "There's… something. Makes shivers crawl up my spine the same way being around Liam did."

"Well, it's been more than several months since we last saw Liam or Joren. A lot could change." Dom bent down to retrieve Joren's clothing. He hung them up on the edge of Keladry's dresser mirror so they could dry.

With nothing better to do and a strong urge to do something, they made the bed and fluffed the pillows. Joren reentered, dressed in one of Dom's white T-shirts and a pair of black trousers. He walked with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the two men expectantly for the next course of action.

"Hey, man," Neal greeted weakly.

"Yeah," Dom added just as feebly. "Hey."

Joren glanced around him, taking in his surroundings. He took no notice of the fact that Keladry was not there with him, nor that there any sign of change since he'd last been in that room. Instead, he slowly exhaled and turned to them again with a blank look on his face.

"Is Cleon here? Is he back yet?" he asked tonelessly.

They were floored by his first question. They had been expecting something along the lines of Keladry's welfare or her love life in general. Bringing up their resident redheaded sharpshooter was the last thing they expected.

"Um, yes.  He's back," Neal answered. "W-why?"

"I'd like to speak to him," Joren replied.

Dom and Neal stared.

"Privately," he added.

"Right. Okay. Just hold on.  I'll get him myself." He shot Dom a troubled look as he left the bedroom. Dom gulped and scratched his head.

"Well, I suppose I should start requesting your things to be taken out of storage. The apartment hasn't been rented out to anyone yet. We had to do the same thing for Cleon when he came home. He stayed on Kel's couch for a week before everything was ready. And I'm just babbling. Sorry. Ignore me," he apologized as he tried to look anywhere but at the chilling blue eyes of the man in front of him.

Joren rested his hand on his abdomen. "I'm hungry. What's available to eat?"

Glad to have something to do, Dom rushed out of the bedroom and into the kitchenette. He went straight to the refrigerator to take a survey of its contents. He extracted a milk carton and a carton of orange juice. Then he replaced them and thought to himself that Joren would much rather prefer coffee.

As he was fetching the coffee grounds, Joren spoke up from behind him. "I'll make toast. Hand me the bread."

Dom watched as Joren set about the simple task of plugging in the toaster and putting the bread inside. He wondered why he couldn't talk to his friend normally. Joren was the same, wasn't he? It was not like his return from his first big operation more than five years ago. Joren had been young then and very impressionable to the world. Joren had been a youth then. He was a man now.

"How have you been?" Dom asked.

Joren turned around. He inclined his head. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Healthiest I've ever been."

"Oh?"

"You'd be surprised how rejuvenating it is to lie in a pool in the desert," Joren said with a smirk.

"What?"

"Nothing. And you?"

Dom snorted. "Attended two weddings, crashed three computers, and babysat a drunken redhead and my little godbrother."

"Only three computers?"

"It's been a slow year."

They remained quiet after that. Joren sat down. He ate the toast and sipped the coffee. He looked like he had never left the country for months on end.  Dom likewise felt that he was in a time warp. They could have been waiting for Keladry to get out of the shower so that they could go down to a pool hall. There, Cleon would be making jokes with Neal while Faleron played a game of 9-ball with an unsuspecting stranger.

When Neal returned with Cleon, Joren was washing his mug and subsequently drying it with a nearby wash towel. Dom was reading yesterday's newspaper just as Cleon had been doing ten minutes ago.

"You wanted to see me?" Cleon asked.

Joren nodded. He turned to Neal and Dom. "Excuse us, gentlemen."

Dom and Neal went to Keladry's bedroom with confusion etched into their expressions. When the door was closed, Joren gestured for Cleon to sit down with him. The redhead did so, not looking at all surprised or confused like his other friends waiting in the bedroom. Things did not have to be complicated. They could be simple.

"When?"

"At least three months after you left."

"In his sleep?"

"He woke up and talked to me first."

Joren nodded. "Any pain?"

Cleon smiled faintly. "I'm supposed to tell everyone 'no', but I don't think you count. You were there when no one else was. You saw him."

"I see."

"Does what we say in this room stay in this room?"

"Sure."

They had death in common. Secrets could be afforded.

"What happened to you?"

Joren shrugged. "Found the truth out about Yukishiro."

"He's your father, isn't he?"

One pale blond eyebrow rose. "How did you know?"

"Dude, I didn't. I was just making a Luke Skywalker-Darth Vadar reference joke."

They ended up chuckling about it.

"So seriously?" Cleon asked, a highly amused look on his face.

"Yeah." Joren paused. "It stays in this room, right?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

"Then the truth is… I died while I was gone."

Cleon shrugged. "That's funny. So did I."

It certainly didn't have to be complicated. The simplicity was their secret. It was their secret way of surviving to see another day. Without it, they would be back where they started: empty and broken. Death was what they shared. No one would really understand how two drastically different men would have this connection—men who used to vex each other every day—but they had it now. The phenomenon didn't require intense meditation. It could be simple.

When they went to the bedroom to fetch the other two men, Dom was on the phone with Stefan telling him that Joren would be moving back into the apartment by the end of the week. He certainly didn't see any reason why Joren wouldn't move back in. Neal, however, glanced at Joren. For the briefest of moments, he had a feeling that Joren would not be in the DJPF forever. Maybe he would disappear again, this time taking Keladry with him. He couldn't stand the thought of losing them both.

"Are any of you hungry? I can whip up some more breakfast," Cleon offered.

Dom shrugged, shaking off his self-induced terror. "Sure. Oh, by the way, there's a full carton of O.J. in the fridge. Knock yourself out."

The redhead nodded and went back to the kitchen. They could hear him whistling as he bustled about. Neal frowned.

Joren put his hands in his pockets and went to the window. After a hesitation, he pulled the curtains aside and opened the window. It was still very early. Though the sun was now up, there was very little activity outside except for those officers leaving the apartment building to go to their morning shifts. His hand rose to touch the glass pane with his fingertips. It was a strange, meaningless gesture that did not go unnoticed. When he finally turned his gaze back from the window, he found Neal staring at him.

"Yeah, Neal?"

Neal blinked. "Oh, nothing." This was not the same Joren. Something had changed about him and it wasn't just that they were on a first name basis. Neal's heart was pounding. "Uh, hey! Did you hear about Roald and Lalasa?"

"No. What about them?"

"They had a baby. They named him… well, they named him after Fal."

Dom had ended his call with Stefan by this time. He snapped his fingers and swore under his breath. "I should probably call them, too. Do you think they're awake?"

"I heard from Roald that the baby cries a lot near morning. They must be."

"Right. Calling." He turned back to the COMscreen to contact the newlywed (and newly parented) couple.

As they suspected, when Roald answered, Lalasa was leaning over the crib to pick up her crying baby. They had moved the crib into their bedroom after they had run out of batteries for the baby walkie-talkies. The new father looked tired. He had large circles under his eyes and drooping eyelids.

"Tough morning, Roald?"

"Mmph."

"I'll take that as a yes… Anyway, you won't believe what good news I've got!"

At that point, Neal and Joren decided to leave the room and see what Cleon had started to cook. The sharpshooter was still whistling as he flipped a pancake. Neal was astounded to see him acting so cheerily. Cleon was even cheerier than when Kalasin had been present.

"There are bananas on the table. You know what a health nut Kel is. She's got all kinds of fruits around." Cleon paused and stared at his pan wonderingly. "I never knew that she had a thing for pancakes though. I've never seen her make any before now."

"Right." Neal sat down at the table and reached for a grape from a large bowl.

"So what else has been going on?" Joren asked. He also sat down and reached for the bowl. He picked up an apple.

Cleon placed the first pancake on a nearby plate. He spoke as he poured pancake batter into his pan. "Well, Raoul married Buri. They've been secretly seeing each other for years."

"Figures," Joren muttered. He bit into his apple.

"Oh! And Fianola and Prosper are dating."

Neal nearly fell off his chair. "What?!"

"Oh, yeah. I saw them kissing in the hall yesterday. At least Fia won't be so sad anymore."

_Who are you and what have you done with Cleon Kennan?_ Neal thought, despite the fact that Cleon was now starting to act like his old self. He had finally started to get accustomed to Cleon's new serious personality. It was a hell of a lot more predictable.

What spooked Neal even more was that Joren was reacting so well to Cleon's behavior. Neal wished he knew what Joren and Cleon had spoken about while he and Dom had been inside the bedroom. After the scarring experience in the Eastern Yamani Mountains, Neal had prided himself on being better friends with Joren. And now it seemed like it had not happened at all. Hadn't he been the one to drive Joren all the way up the coast to that private airfield? Hadn't he been the one to share a couple of remorseful drinks on the plane with him?

Even the death of Shinkokami was starting to fade from his memory. Soon, any experience of death that he had had personally would be gone and any hope for a link to Joren Stone would also disappear. They didn't have death in common. Whatever they did have in common apparently wasn't enough.

"Oh!" Cleon exclaimed. He flipped another pancake in the air. "I almost forgot. Kel's been dating Ulliver Linden."

Neal almost choked on his grapes. _How could he tell him that! Cleon, you idiot! _His gaze immediately flew to Joren.

"Mmm." Joren only nodded and took another loud bite of his apple.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Time passed. Keladry had finally gotten off Neal's couch and out of his apartment. Unfortunately, she had still not mustered enough the courage to do anything else but pace in the hall. She knew that she had to face him eventually. The night before had been too shocking and too disarming for her to just barge back into her bedroom to see him. Her heart had nearly stopped last night. Not just skipped a beat, but completely stopped.

It was the most frightening thing that had ever happened to her.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not notice Ulliver's approach until his hand came down on her shoulders. She immediately whirled around to face him.

"Ulliver!"

Keladry felt a sudden stab of guilt. He observed her regretful expression and shook his head. Ulliver reached out and combed her hair back with his fingers.

"It's okay. I already know." He shrugged. "The grapevine around here is pretty fast."

She leaned back against the wall and slowly sank to the floor. Ulliver settled himself down in front of her with his elbows on his knees and his gaze still locked on her. Keladry was afraid to meet his eyes.

It would have been easier if it had been Liam. She could have looked Liam in the eyes without fear of hurting him. Liam had been untouchable in that respect. At least, she thought so. No. After so many months of continual and unconditional support, she would have to… have to do what? This was Ulliver, by Glory! What in the world did she have in mind?

"I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "I said it was okay. We've had this talk before, remember? I was prepared for it."

"You deserve so much more," she insisted. How could he be this strong? She would have buckled. If he asked her at that moment to leave Joren in the past, Keladry thought to herself that she might. But would she have been happy?

He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her face up so she could meet his gaze.

"I deserve whatever I want to deserve." He smiled softly. "I had a good time. That's all that matters." He fixed her with a mock-serious look. "Now, if you still feel guilty, you can consider yourself obligated to introduce me to any sexy new women friends you make."

She smiled. "I can do that."

"Good." He sighed. "I'm happy for you."

"Are you really?"

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Yet, Ulliver thought to himself, _I am such a damn liar. But she's not stopping me. Oh gods, she's not stopping me! She's not stopping me so she really does… She was really going to… end it._ His heart broke in two. He would miss this warmth. This innocent awkwardness. It was worth more than money could ever hope to equal.

Keladry felt tears pricking the back of her eyes. "I know I already said this, but you really do deserve so much more."

Ulliver leaned forward and brushed his lips gently against her forehead. This moment. This moment _right_ here. He would remember that until he found the true love of his life. That is, if there _was_ one. He whispered, "I already received a lot more than I deserved when you let me hold your hand."

"You sap," she sniffed when he pulled away. Ulliver kissed her palms and held her hands to his cheeks.

He smirked. "You jerk."

After a time, he started to stand. Keladry opened her mouth to say something, but he put his finger to her lips to shush her. And so she watched wordlessly as he got up and departed down the hall. It wouldn't be the last time she saw him. She knew that. And every time after, she would always feel a soft spot for a nice young man who had shown her how to make chocolate chip pancakes.

Two years ago, her love life had been nonexistent. It was funny how things turned out. Keladry thought it was just the gods having a strange sense of humor. Every incident she could think of seemed to have a touch of incredibility that was absent everywhere else in her life.

_…_

_As the biker neared, he slowed down, but his decreased speed did not hinder his splendid entrance. The loud sounds from his bike caused some of the more sensitive-hearing men to cover their ears and walk away. But the troupe of giggling women came even closer as he came to a stop at a parking spot for bikes. He turned the off the engine, leaned on one side, then swung his leg over. Leaving it supported on a stand, he began to walk toward the dock's information desk. _

_He wore a black field uniform with a blood red stripe down the front. He was definitely lean and walked so fluidly that Keladry wondered if anyone else could walk more so. On the outer parts of each thigh were two black disks. Those were sensors that most bikers wore for police to track them in case they had a speeding violation. _

_As he walked oh-so-smoothly to the desk, he reached up with his gloved hands and took off his helmet. A mass of straight blond hair fell messily around his ears, but the mussed look worked well for him. His cold blue eyes were set under serious eyebrows and his skin was flawlessly pale. He tucked his helmet under his arm._

_"Don't… don't tell me he's…" Keladry began._

…

_"Hey!" she called over to him. When he didn't approach her, she pushed off the crates she was leaning on and came to him. Before Keladry could talk, he spoke with evident irritation._

_"If you're going to hit on me, save yourself the trouble and walk away. I don't care for flirtatious girls, who don't know a damned thing about hard work," he spat. His voice was sharper than the finest chef's knife. Keladry folded her arms._

_"No," Keladry replied, although annoyed by the hostility of his response. "I'm Keladry Mindelan. And you're obviously--"_

_"Joren Stone," he finished for her with a slight nod. "Thank Heaven, you actually look like you know what you're doing."_

_She narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth. "Yeah." She held out her hand, forcing herself to be polite. Neal and Owen were right. She just met him, and she could tell he was a jerk. "It's nice to meet you, partner."_

…

_Joren finally came into view. He opened his collar a bit to expose his throat to the air. It was hot and humid that afternoon. It was a great feat for any man to be wearing black in that weather. She stood up and cleared her throat. "Hey."_

_He blinked. "Oh. Hey."_

_"Can we talk for a second?" she asked nervously, toeing the concrete with her shoe. He nodded._

_"Yeah. Go ahead."_

_"About earlier, at your house…" She touched her lips with shaky hands._

_He let out a deep breath. "Oh yeah. I've been meaning to talk to you about that." He scratched the back of his head. "It was all a mistake. I was kind of shook up from recalling all that heinous crap about my family and Galla. My head was messed up. I did something I shouldn't have. Sorry if I led you on or anything."_

_Prick, prick._

_"Oh, no," she said, covering up her hurt as best she could. "It's cool. It felt kind of weird to me anyway. I'm glad it's not leading to anything, actually."_

_"Good. Officers don't date each other," he nodded. "It's better we forget about the whole thing. See you around, Mindelan." He walked off._

_She bit her lip. "We aren't officers anymore…"_

_…_

_"Now what the hell is this about?" he demanded with arms akimbo. _

_Keladry couldn't meet his eyes. She lowered her gaze to the ground. "Nothing."_

_His eyes… why did he have to stare at her with those piercing eyes? Couldn't he just realize that she was being weird and leave her alone? She had to get out of there right then or else she was going to say something that she really wanted to keep to herself. Then Joren would get the idea that she… What was it? Why couldn't she just say it?_

_"I'm going up to my room," she said quietly. She walked past him toward the clear elevator shaft. Before she could step inside, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around. Her heart beat faster. Blood drained from her face. She was as pale as the moon, she bet, under the garage lights. _

_He peered at her. After a minute of intense scrutiny, he sighed. "Aww, damn. You actually care, don't you?_

_"I have no idea of what you're talking about," she lied and tried to wrench her arm from him. He held tight and kept in her place. "Come on. Let me go. This isn't funny."_

_"Who said it was supposed to be?" he retorted. Now she assumed this was where he started to yell at her for being what she was. And for caring._

_"I really have to leave, Stone. Stop it already. You're cutting off my circulation," she said a tiny bit stronger than before. He let her go. She started rubbing her wrist where he'd held her._

_He casually put his hands in his jacket pockets. For the first time, she noticed that there was a name printed on the inside collar. It read: Jackal. She stared at it for the longest time, before he came closer to her._

_She backed up a little, her back against the clear surface of the elevator shaft. "Uh…"_

_"Why do you care what happens to me?" he asked bluntly. His icy blue eyes met her hazel ones. _

_She shivered involuntarily. "You're my partner. Takes too much time getting readjusted to somebody else."_

_"Is that all?" he asked. She trembled. His face was inches from hers now. She could feel the heat from his breath against her cheek like she was sure he could feel hers. Keladry would have given up her entire salary for anyone to bumble in that very moment and interrupt whatever was happening. Her heart was going a mile per minute. If Joren didn't back away soon, she was afraid that he would--_

_He kissed her. _

….

Those were the days when Keladry could still pretend to hate him. Now that she looked back on it, her hate was really not hate at all. Even then it had been made of different stuff. Of concern, of hurt, of… of the makings of love.

Down the hall, the door to her apartment opened and Neal leaned out. He saw Keladry sitting near the elevator and sighed.

"Kel! Get over here!"

She didn't want to go, but she could already feel an invisible force pulling her up and tugging her in his direction. Neal and Dom exited her apartment, still undressed from bed. They met Keladry halfway, looks of relief on their faces. Neal hugged her and Dom rubbed her shoulder.

"Just go on in. If you need us, we'll be at my place," Dom told her.

"Okay."

They went on their way. Keladry watched them until they disappeared. She considered herself the luckiest woman on the planet to have such a loyal network of friends. They knew her better than anyone else. They knew her fears and her desires better than she did. They already knew which choice she would make. That was why… they were here with _him._ They just knew. _I want to see him,_ she thought feverishly. As she neared her door, it opened. Cleon stepped out. He, at least, was dressed. He was also carrying a half empty carton of orange juice. He blushed bashfully at her.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not." She was more than delighted to see the vibrancy of life and good humors in his face, but she wanted him to leave. She had to go to her bedroom. Quickly. Oh, why wouldn't he just hurry up? Kel loved Cleon like a brother, but she fervently wished he would move.

He hugged her. "I'll make it up to you one of these days."

"You don't have to."

"Yes I do. Thanks for everything, Kel."

He released her and tweaked her nose before carrying on his merry way. His whistling echoed through the hall as he headed toward the elevator to join Dom and Neal upstairs. Keladry blinked. She hadn't expected that. More had gone on that morning than she was aware of. Much more. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know what exactly… but perhaps her friends would fill her in some other time. Life was flying right by her, but she would not give in to the speed. Let it go on just a bit longer…

_What will happen after all this is done? Will Roald and Lalasa come and bring little Fal to see him? Will Cleon return to his normal self? What about Raoul and Buri and Flyn? Will they believe that he's back? I want to know! I want to know how everything will turn out. But… Is he even…_

_Is he there?_

_For me?_

_Or for himself?_

_I want to know._

_I want to… run away._

_…_

_Doesn't he know?_

_Doesn't he know?!_

She paused in her step. Let it go on. Just… a bit—

_Another thousand years will pass before I even look upon his face again._

At last, she stood in front of her door, herself afraid to go in. What would she say? What would _he_ say? It was silly to fear such uncontrollable things. Keladry thought to herself that she should just let them happen. She was not always so worried about what to say to him. Recalling her earlier memories, she realized that she used to curse at him and rebuke him for his merciless teasing. There was nothing on earth that would make her rebuke him now.

The door opened. Joren stood in front of it, his arms down by his sides.

"Are you coming in or not?"

_Leave it to him to make it seem like it's no big thing. _His bluntness gave her incentive to move. She nodded and stepped forward. The door closed behind her. They were alone again in her apartment. Joren walked back to the kitchen table where his half finished pancakes were. Keladry sat beside him, unsure of what to do with herself.

The silence lasted until he finished his breakfast and deposited his plate in the sink. After turning to glance at her, he started to rinse off the dishes and scrub them down with her kitchen sponge. Keladry frowned. She had never seen him do that before.

"There are a lot of things I do differently now," he said. It was the truth.

She blinked. "What?"

_Did he read my mind?_

Joren smirked, though she did not see. When he finished, he came back to the table while drying his hands on a dish towel. Keladry squeezed her hands together in her lap. Things were getting too weird. No, not that. They were too normal. Wasn't this the point during which one of them professed their undying love or made a theatrical heartfelt speech?

Reality was so much blander than she expected. But one thing was clear.

_He knows._

_…_

_…I shouldn't have doubted._

He knew about her silent promise. Until the end of eternity, she had promised him once upon a time.

"Hi," Joren whispered. A cold hand tickled her spine.

She raised her eyes to meet his. At once, she felt dizzy. "Hi."

He tossed the towel over his shoulder and onto the counter. He supposed she was expecting him to say something more. But when had he ever been the talkative type? Sure. There were a lot of things he needed to say. But thanks to events that had been out of his control, he figured he would have the rest of eternity to say them. No sense in blurting everything at once. He could save some of that for a very special _later. _So, he settled for taking her hands in his and intertwining their fingers.

Her heart was going to burst out of her chest. It was about to explode just by emotion alone. Keladry let out a shaky breath. She was truly going to die on that very spot. Spontaneous combustion or something of the sort. She felt tears springing up to her eyes again. Just as the first drop was to spill over her lashes, he reached forward and wiped it away. Then he caressed her cheek and traced a line to her bottom lip.

_Love can be silent,_ she thought. _Love can be this. _

Joren cupped her face with the hand that had wiped the tear away. "I'm not always going to be able to make you happy."

"I know," she replied. Without realizing it, her lips curled into a smile.

Joren exhaled. "Good. I just wanted to be clear on that."

He leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed him back without hesitation. His soft lips coaxed her to relax. With that, they revived the old feeling without any trouble. The heat, the breathlessness, the passion… It was as if they had never left each other's presence at all. It was as if they were back at the beginning—no, back at the end… No. They were back in the middle, where things were just right and the last several months could transform into an awful dream that they had one stormy night.

Things could be simple. And they could be worse.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author:

Four years. It's been one hell of a ride.

Definitely, **go read The Gift**, the **sequel** series to ICBW, if you want to see how everyone ends up. It's my brainchild, really. I love it.

I do plan to write novels someday. I've got short stories and poems in the works for publishing. My name in those books won't be Sulia Serafine. It could be plain Kathleen Pedro from Florida. Just a young woman on her way to the future.

Have fun on the way to yours.


	13. Author's Farewell

It Could Be Worse

Series Farewell

By Sulia Serafine

**Warning! ICBW Ending and The Gift Ending spoilers!**

[_The stage is dark. After the murmur of the audience quiets down, a single spotlight shines down at the center of the stage. A young woman steps forward into the light. She smiles as the initial applause reaches her ears. After a few moments, everything is quiet again and she begins to speak._]

Author: I would like to thank _everyone_who has supported the series during its running. Four years is a long time. I didn't expect ICBW to take over my high school existence the way it did. But I'm glad that I had this continuing experience. I've gained a lot in ways of writing style, feeding off the opinions and critiques of readers such as yourselves. I probably wouldn't have chosen English as my field of study if it weren't for everything that fanfiction has brought to me. So thank you.

[_A second spotlight appears stage left of the author._]

Author: At this time, the cast members of ICBW would like to say a few words, summing up their characters and their experiences here. They are all just as sad as me to see the series end. But we're all happy to see the turnout of support.

[_Owen Jesslaw and his tent mates: Peg, Crown, and Aiden.__The author retreats while her spotlight merges with the second one._]

Owen: Hello, everyone! I hope you're having a jolly good time!

[_The audience cheers._]

Owen: This is so hard for us, being the opening speakers at this wonderful farewell party you're throwing for us. I still can't believe that I'm standing here as one of the characters who had such a happy ending. I started out as one of Kel's two best friends, but I was hardly seen throughout the entire series. Despite that, I managed to land myself an exciting position in the expeditionary force exploring the Roof _and_ landed a girlfriend there while I was at it.

[_Peg smiles and waves._]

Owen: My best scenes were always with Neal and Keladry, reliving the past and dreaming about the future. My character wouldn't have gotten far if it weren't for friends like them. And we'll never forget it.

[_The four explorers depart. A man and woman take their place._]

Hakuin: Hello, hello! As you all know, I'm Instructor Hakuin Seastone.

Eda: And I'm Instructor Eda Bell. We're two minor characters seen even less than Owen Jesslaw, but who's to say that makes us any less important?

Hakuin: Right you are, Eda! We trained Kel as soon as she left the Academy and came to Tortal HQ. With the exception of Zell Dincht, you could say that _we_ are the ones responsible for Kel's kick-butt skills!

Eda: Not to mention the free vacation you gave her and her friends during the second season.

Hakuin: [_stretching his arms over his head lazily_] Yup! It pays to come from a rich, bribing family…

[_Eda__rolls her eyes before dragging him out of the spotlight behind her. Hakuin stumbles and waves as they depart. Three men and a Stormwing enter next, all looking less than enthused to be there._]

Vinson: Will this take long? I have a date with that actress who plays Lalasa. I have to get ready.

[_Roger cuffs him on the back of the head. Ozorne and Rikash look on, amused._]

Roger: Would you shut up? [_Faces audience._] Well! I don't know what to say to you all. We're the villains of the first season. That's right! Before the big baddies like Enishi and the Chamberlain, _we_ were the ones causing hell on earth.

Ozorne: And we would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for those pesky kids—

Rikash: [_clawing Ozorne's arm on which he is perched_] Hey, this isn't Scooby Doo, pal. Save it.

Roger: The point is, _we_ put the entire story into motion! That's right! Us!

Ozorne: [_scoffs_] Actually, Roger, I'm the one who set the story into motion. Keladry and Joren were partnered together on a mission to get _me._ And I'm Lalasa's father as well. That makes me quite the important character. Even my enemies still remind the main cast about my evil by trying to kill Lalasa and Kaddar after my death!

Vinson: Blah, blah, blah. I got shot by Joren, at least. Big dramatic scene! How the hell did you die? Huh? Kalasin stabbed you in the back!

[_Roger cuffs Vinson in the back of the head again._]

Roger: At least I gave Joren his second near-death experience.

Vinson: What was the first?

Roger: The fire that took his parents' lives, d'uh.

Vinson: Oh.

Rikash: [_preening proudly_] And I gave him the third near-death experience! Falling off a building and whatnot. And as Enishi explained, my blood activated Joren's latent royal blood. Just no one knew it yet.

Vinson: Can we leave yet?

[_Roger raises his hand to smack him again. Vinson cringes and ducks. Roger smiles and puts his hand down._]

Roger: Yes. Goodbye, dear fans! And if anyone doubts that I'm a sexier super villain than Enishi Yukishiro, just watch this finely sculpted butt as I walk out!

[_Roger exits, his three companions reluctantly following. A few women cheer loudly. Two men and two women, their expressions filled with disgust at the last display, walk into the spotlight. It is Jonathan and Thayet Conté, accompanied by Daine Sarrasri and Numair Salmalin._]

Jonathan: Well, it's been fun being president. Asides from the Immortals scandal, and all.

Numair: Indeed… you would think you'd heed our advice about strange creatures, but no—you just had to put your money behind all those creepy scientists.

Jonathan: I've learned my lesson.

Thayet: [_snorts_] You better have.

Daine: Anyway, thank you everyone for your praise! The series would have been nothing without you!

[_The audience cheers yet again_.]

Numair: And thanks for putting up with the fact that our love affair was put in the off-screen action!

Thayet: [_tapping chin_] I'm still somewhat surprised that you two didn't elope before the end of the series. I mean, even Raoul and Buri got their small wedding.

Daine: I suppose Ms. Serafine didn't want to chance so many weddings. Too clean of a happy ending.

Jonathan: [_smirks mischievously at his wife_] Trust me when I say you're not missing out on much.

[_Thayet__wastes no time in elbowing him in the side. Jonathan smiles.]_

Numair: Goodbye, everyone! Thank you again!

[_The four exit. Now Alanna, Thom, and George enter. Alanna is obviously pregnant._]

Alanna: I don't see why I still have to wear this fake belly.

George: For effect, darling. I think the last personal appearance we made, you were pregnant.

Alanna: Was I?

George: A month or so, I suppose.

Thom: [_rolls eyes_] Well my last notable appearance was on a stretcher being loaded into the ambulance.

Alanna: [_pinches Thom_] And whose fault was that?

[_Thom mumbles._]

Alanna: Anyway! It's been so great working with the cast of ICBW. It's nice to be the legendary heroine whom everyone looks up for. I didn't get that much screen time, but at least I got more than these two.

[_George shrugs indifferently while Thom sulks._]

Alanna: I wish my fellow cast members all the best of luck in the future, especially Keladry Mindelan! I know according to The Gift that she has a wonderful life set in front of her. I'm sure her DJPF career will be just as successful as mine. [_Grabs both George and Thom by the ears._] Now come along, you two!

[_They exit, Thom still protesting wildly. A lone figure of stiff posture enters the stage, seemingly unruffled by the trio that has just passed him.]_

Wyldon: It's easy to see who wears the pants in _that_ relationship. Ahem! [_He clasps his hands behind his back._] As you all know, I'm Commissioner Wyldon, one of the commanding officers at DJPF Headquarters. I must say that my character would be proud of all the DJPF officers in ICBW—Keladry Mindelan most of all. She has always persevered in the face of danger, loss, and… absurdity. Joren Stone was a very promising officer as well. He's still unmatched in some areas, but I'm not sure as to his reliability. I mean, what with disappearing for almost a year.

[_He clears his throat nervously._]

Wyldon: As for the other officers that I have known in my time—Cleon Kennan, Nealan Queenscove, Owen Jesslaw… I'm… I'm sure that if they haven't killed themselves with stupidity yet, there is a good chance they never will. I only hope they decide not to breed. [_Thinks of Cleon and shudders._] That is all. I'm taking my leave of you, now and forever.

[_Wyldon__exits in a stately fashion, head held high and arms swinging rigidly at his sides. Another trio of characters appears, apparently bickering already._]

Buri: I still can't believe our honeymoon was in Tortall. Your character _knew_ that I wanted a quiet weekend.

Raoul: Tortall is a fine city!

Flyn: Yeah, right. You only wanted to show off to Jonathan and Gary that you had actually gotten married. [_To Buri_.] They thought it would never happen!

Buri: [_choosing to ignore both men_] We thank you again, as you have been thanked by everyone tonight, for making us come alive in these character roles. I regret that my character was apart of assigning Joren Stone to his first undercover operation. It was lengthy and it was painful.

[_A spotlight appears at the edge of the stage. Paxton Nond stands with his arms folded across his chest._]

Paxton: I'll say! You're not the ones who were shot!

[_Another spotlight appears at the opposite edge of the stage. Coram and Kimmy are there, also annoyed._]

Coram: At least your apartment wasn't burned down! We had to skip town with only the clothes on our backs and a pocketful of change!

[_Both spotlights disappear as do the characters. Buri, Raoul, and Flyn stand confused._]

Raoul: In any case, we've done a lot of wacky things asides from getting married. Ms. Serafine never saw fit to separate the three of us for any reason. I guess you could say we are the Tusaine Trio.

Flyn: No. We are not. I hate that name.

Raoul: Fine. But we've stuck together. Even when I had to throw that welcoming banquet for Jon, we persevered!

Buri: You hardly did anything! It was the Riders who kept your rear end out of the fire! Come on, we've spent too much time onstage. It's time to let the _real_ reasons behind your success to speak their mind.

Raoul: Hey! I had to learn table manners!

Flyn: A child could have learned in less time than you.

[_The trio departs, bickering just as loudly as when they entered. The Riders run onstage, a burst of fresh energy and whooping. The audience cheers louder than before, feeding off their positive energy._]

Fianola: [_waving her arms_] Thank you! Thank you! We love you guys, too!

Prosper: [_bowing bashfully_] Yes, we appreciate all the praise you've given us. It's nice to know our purposes as comedic relief turned out so well.

Seaver: [_holding up a baby snake_] Yup! We couldn't have pulled anything off without you! It was hard work throwing football parties and hanging out drinking and eating pizza!

Qasim: We didn't just do that. Like Flyn and Buri pointed out, we made Raoul's banquet a success.

Fianola: Excuse you! My dessert made the thing a success! You just dressed up like servers and chefs. Seaver's snake scared off the professionals!

Lerant: Hey, hey, hey. I booked the whole thing. Master organizer that I am. [_pauses._] Wait a second. Who was the one whose butt was grabbed by Alanna's daughter? He should get the most applause for enduring that!

Dom: [_pokes Seaver_] Hey, oh attracter-of-jailbait. That's you.

Seaver: Shut up! At least I didn't get knocked out by slipping in water!

Dom: [_remembers_] And whose fault was that?

Yuki: [_points at Lerant_] It was my so-called boyfriend.

Lerant: Yuki!

Dom: You're lucky that we're in the middle of a Goodbye Special. I'll pummel you later. You know I actually had to _fall_ for that take, like, five times? It was ridiculous! They kept reshooting the scene! It was awful! Anyway, my character has been lucky enough to get the most screen time out of all the Riders.

Fianola: Only because you try to befriend Joren. I hate to tell you this, Dom, but although Joren is occasionally mistaken for a woman—

Dom: That was not why I befriended Joren! You tart!

[_Fianola grins and whistles innocently._]

Qasim: Well, you have to admit, you were starting to get attracted to a lot of people there. You hit on Keladry, didn't you? The Chicken Marsala?

Prosper: Oh yeah. By the way, just how did you know about Joren's Bratwurst?

Fianola: Ooh! Plot bunnies galore! Why oh why didn't Sulia take advantage of them?

Yuki: To keep me from vomiting in disgust. That's why.

Dom: Hey! At least I got an appearance in the last episode! [_Dom does a little victory dance. He stops when he notices the other Riders glaring at him. He smiles weakly._] Time to go!

[_Dom dashes off stage. His comrades follow. They are replaced by four calm and austere looking characters from the third season._]

Chisakami: [_bowing_] I'm sorry my character almost had a dragon destroy everything.

Borealize: I'm sorry I was not there to stop Faleron from being shot.

Selirithel: I'm sorry that I didn't get to use my magic against the Chamberlain Maggur.

[_Another side spotlight appears. Maggur is there._]

Maggur: I'm not!

[_The spotlight disappears._ _Shinkokami__looks irritated._]

Shinkokami: Well, I'm not sorry at all! Not only did I get killed off at the height of my fan praise, but I had to get hit on by Nealan Queenscove! I mean, he's actually in love, but the man can be quite… argh!

[_The four Yamani characters stand there in silence, unsure of what else to say._]

Borealize: Um, okay.

Chisakami: Um?

Selirithel: …

Shinkokami: Okay! We're leaving!

[_She leads them offstage. Conal and Inness appear._]

Conal: Why did my character have to be such a traitor?

Inness: I don't know. At least you didn't have to get sentimental with Keladry.

Conal: But I was so shafted, man! I'm the black sheep, I betray everyone out of ambition, _and_ I get a knife in my back! Couldn't I have at least gotten a tryst with one of those she-demons who were throwing themselves at Joren and Neal?

Inness: Sorry, bro. Them's the brakes.

Conal: [_annoyed_] This totally blows.

Inness: Indeed. I end up mentally exhausted. I mean, I get nightmares about everything that's happened… I have to be comforted by our characters' baby sister! Oh, but at least I get to take up the guitar.

Conal: I repeat! This totally blows!

Inness: Agreed. Want to spray paint the main characters' trailers?

Conal: Good idea. Good night, folks!

[_The two men exit. Two different men enter, with not as large chips on their shoulders as those before them. Well, one of them, anyway.]_

Wolset: [_patting Ulliver's shoulder comfortingly_] Dude, I'm sorry your character got the boot.

Ulliver: S'okay. I'm dating the actress who plays Kalasin.

Wolset: [_blinks_] How did that happen?

Ulliver: Oh, there was some behind the scenes romancing at the second to last episode. I mean, Kel's character is a tease. Had to find a "romantic" outlet somewhere. And Kalasin hates the actor who plays Cleon in real life. Just like the whole Lalasa-Roald true story.

Wolset: …

Ulliver: But hey! I got a bonus on my paycheck for all those sweet mushy scenes with Keladry! And you know, the make-up artist isn't responsible for that hickey on Kel's neck.

Wolset: Too much information! Too much information! [_becomes__pale._]

Ulliver: No, really. I enjoyed playing Ulliver. He's a really good guy with a lot of bad luck.

Wolset: Yeah, and the fans were really starting to like him in the final season.

Ulliver: They had to! Not only was Joren scarce, but… [He flexes his arms and kisses both biceps] I'm not a bad looker, either. That "Turkeys don't have abs like these" line? Totally me! Best improvisation ever!

Wolset: [_rolls his eyes_] Sure…

Ulliver: Anyway, thank you, all you fangirls who started to like me in the end! I won't forget you! My cell phone number is—

Wolset: [_begins dragging Ulliver offstage._] Goodnight! Goodnight!

[_The two men leave. Lalasa and Roald enter._]

Lalasa: [_noticeably not touching Roald_] You like me! You really like me!

Roald: They like me, too.

Lalasa: Well they have to. Where was I? You like me! You really, really like me!

[_Roald rolls his eyes._]

Lalasa: I'm proud at least that our characters have had the longest lasting relationship of all those that were started during the series. We actually got to the altar _and_ the delivery room.

Roald: Not that those scenes were much fun, anyway…

Lalasa: And oh! I got all those _fabulous_clothes. The costumers were my best friends. I tell ya! Costumes were great. Absolutely… stupendous.

Roald: [_imitating Lalasa's voice_] Blah, blah, blah. Blah? Blah!

[_Lalasa glares at Roald_.]

Lalasa: Hey! At least they like me better than they like you.

Roald: I'll admit that the men might like you more because you got Kel into a bikini. But the women out there love me! I'm the perfect boyfriend!

Lalasa: [_scoffs_] Actually, that role went to Ulliver.

Roald: I can't believe I actually had to go through all those love scenes with you. Because of your character, I got to miss out on all the adventures that they had!

Lalasa: Because of _me_?

Roald: Yeah, you!

Lalasa: That's it! I want a divorce!

Roald: We're not even really married, you dumb—

[_Vinson storms onstage and punches Roald._]

Vinson: I'll thank you not to insult my girlfriend. Come on, Lalasa. Let's go to my trailer.

Lalasa: Gladly!

[_The couple leaves in one direction. Roald rubs his smarting cheekbone and leaves in the other direction. There is a snicker offstage. The amused person is revealed to be Liam Irons, who is accompanied by Enishi Yukishiro and Yahiko Yukishiro as they go onstage._]

Liam: Wow. And I thought _I_ had problems.

Enishi: You do. Still need to pick up hemorrhoid cream?

Liam: Ha. Ha.

Yahiko: What's hemorrhoid cream?

[_Enishi__and Liam exchange glances._]

Enishi: Nothing.

Liam: Okay, back to why we're here. Our characters really screwed things up starting in the second season. I started courting Keladry. And let me tell ya, Ulliver isn't the only one to have—

Enishi: Liam.

Liam: What?

[_Enishi__gestures to Yahiko._]

Liam: Oh. Right. All right, let's just say that Kel and I started to develop something really special. I took her to the fair, bought a bracelet… I mean, I was really laying on the romantic gentleman stuff. I would have had her!

Enishi: Joren interfered, of course.

Liam: [_grinding his teeth_] Of course.

Enishi: And I had to order you to stop dating Keladry. Things with the other gangs in town were starting to get restless. Joren was coming closer and closer to realizing the truth.

Liam: [_muttering_] That you're a giant ass…

Enishi: Things only became more complicated when he stepped onto my turf in Season 3.

Liam: Season 3 sucked.

Enishi: [_mouth twitching at the corners_] Oh? Are you saying that because several people accused Sulia of having UST between you and Joren? Because Jaelawyn Noble pointed out several points of possible slashy interpretation?

Liam: Shut up!

Enishi: [_triumphant_] Denial is the first stage.

Liam: …

Yahiko: What's slash?

[_Enishi__and Liam exchange glances yet again._]

Liam: Nothing. [_To Enishi_] At least I end up with a girl in the end! The Gift finally compensates me for the loss of Keladry!

Enishi: Yvenne's character is half your age. You can't grow any older.

Liam: Yeah. [_now the triumphant one_] And Joren can. His character's hair will turn white like yours—but mine won't because I'm not really your son! Ha! Take that one, _old man_!

Yahiko: [_hands covering his white haired head_] I like my hair… [_pouts_]

Enishi: Look what you've done. You've upset him.

Liam: _You_upset him!

Enishi: You're still pissed that your character was second fiddle to everything that happened to Joren.

Liam: Right. Because I would be jealous that I didn't have to escape a burning building when I was a child. I would be jealous of having to shoot my mentor. And I'd be jealous of depression. Give the man some Zoloft! For crying out loud!

Yahiko: What's Zoloft?

[_A side spotlight turned on. The Author herself leaned out from the curtain and glared at the two men._]

Author: You're both taking extremely long. Can you leave now?

Enishi & Liam: Gladly!

[_The two men leave. Yahiko scurries after them. The Author's spotlight shuts off. The next four characters to arrive are Cleon Kennan, Nealan Queenscove, Kalasin Jasson, and Faleron King._ _Neal and Cleon enter, trying to get the audience on their feet and shouting. Kalasin and Faleron hang back, watching like spectators._]

Neal: Woohoo! That's what I'm talking about!

Cleon: Yeah! That's right! The stars are here! The real stars!

Neal: Get up on your feet! Clap those hands!

[_The audience goes wild. Faleron rolls his eyes._]

Cleon: Yeah! Let's get this party going!

Kalasin: Hey, boys?

Neal: What?

Faleron: We need to get back on track. We're supposed to be talking about our characters and what this entire series has meant to us as actors.

Cleon: But that's so boring!

Kalasin: Tough. Now start talking, Kennan.

Cleon: [_toes the stage with his shoe_] Well… my character started out as a rookie. He has been incredibly optimistic and light hearted nearly this entire series. He's the goof. He's the stereotypical, nothing-can-get-me-down, happy goof. He loves being funny. He loves making people laugh. And… he's really good at shooting stuff.

Faleron: I believe the term is good marksmanship.

Cleon: Yeah, whatever. Hey! I get the sexiest girlfriend out of everyone here.

[_Kalasin sighs and glances away. The actor who plays Ulliver is in the stage wings, waving. She smiles._]

Cleon: So things get a little serious whenever his friends are in trouble. He'll come through for them in a pinch. Especially for Faleron. That's pretty ironic, considering my character was about to kill him when we first met in Season 1.

Faleron: Of course, things changed. His optimism countered my cynicism and eventually I began to get chipper, too.

Neal: Is chipper a word?

Faleron: It is! And it's hard for a down-on-luck thief to become a law abiding citizen again. My character had a hard life. It was a shame what happened to him in the end.

Cleon: Yeah. That sucked.

Faleron: [_dryly_] Understatement of the year. Anyway, I want to thank everyone who mourned my death. It's always difficult when someone dies, even a character. Ms. Serafine really didn't want to get rid of me. But ICBW wasn't a perfect world. People had to die. Villains, heroes… no one's immune.

Neal: Except Joren.

Faleron: [_muttering_] Lucky bastard. Wish _I_ was the main character…

Cleon: Faleron King was a great man. My character took it very hard when he died. They were best friends. More than that—they were brothers! [_pats Faleron on the back._]

Faleron: Indeed. Fal found love with Fia, but he found irreplaceable camaraderie with Cleon.

Cleon: Same here, dude. Same here.

Neal: Whatever. They're tired of hearing about you. Let's talk about me for a second!

Kalasin: [_narrowing her eyes_] You, huh? Okay. I can sum up Nealan Queenscove for you. He's a guy who never had any expectations for himself except the ones Kel gave him. He's injured or sick _every_season. Let's see… Season 1: Copper Flu. Couldn't go with Kel and Joren on their mission, huh? Season 2: thrown out of a speeding car. Several broken bones and scrapes there. Physical therapy galore. Season 3: Mauled by a wolf-creature and shot through the arm by one _Cleon Kennan_.

Cleon: [_sheepishly_] It was necessary!

Neal: Pfft!

Kalasin: And Season 4: physical therapy. Rehabilitation again. Occasionally, he attempts to date women and enjoy the nightlife. He has a platonic relationship with Kel, forces his way into the company of the Three Stooges, and waits too long to be a _real_man to go after Yuki.

Neal: Well, I had Shinko…

Kalasin: I'm sorry, did Shinko ever give you an indication that she liked you?

Neal: … Well, burn my characters dreams to the ground why don't you!

Cleon: Hey, Kally, your character wasn't that great either.

Faleron: Yeah! I mean, look who you ended up with.

Cleon: Shut up!

Kalasin: [_sighs_] Yes, I find myself most unfortunate. Abandoned parents, hardened emotions… I become an assassin for the Myles Olau and I'm Roald's older half sister. I become an aunt before the end of the series, I fall for a redheaded dork because he gave me a stuffed hippo… and I have to pull him out of his own misery by forcing him to take a walk with me on the beach.

Faleron: Gee. I can see how you would consider that unfortunate. Your character even _lives._ Right. That must be a bummer.

Neal: Okay, okay. The point is… our characters really connect emotionally. We go through a lot of crap and come out on top. Except Fal.

Faleron: Blah, blah, blah. Get on with it.

Cleon: So the series has really meant a lot to us. Your own emotional reactions to our plights mean a lot to us. It means Sulia is on the right track.

Faleron: Yeah. Making me worm food.

Kalasin: That's it. I'm gone. I have a date.

[_Kalasin stalks off to join Ulliver. The three men trail behind, waving to the audience. Several girls scream out to Faleron, who runs back on stage briefly to blow kisses._]

Faleron: I love you! I love you all!

[_He grins and leaves. There is a pause behind the curtains. A loud smack is clearly heard. At last, a young man, woman, and a boy walk onto the stage._]

Vinny: [_rubbing his cheek_] Sheesh…

Little Fal (from hereon referred to as Fal): Was that really necessary, Yvenne?

Yvenne: Of course it was.

Vinny: Ladies and gentlemen! That is how you sum up the character of Yvenne Noble! A violent b—

Yvenne: Vincent!

Fal: Um… So! Hello, out there! I'm the cute one.

Vinny: No, you're not. I'm the cute one! I'm the devilishly sexy one! I have Joren's looks with way more charm and charisma!

Yvenne: You wish.

Vinny: [_strips off his jacket and is left with a thin white T-shirt. There is loud cheering in the audience._] Oh yeah?

Fal: Vinny, we're supposed to talk about ourselves and the end of the series.

Vinny: Right. Why don't you start, squirt?

Fal: Okay. Well, uh, I came into The Gift looking for an escape from my prep school vacation at the casino. I'd heard so many tales of adventure from my parents' youths that I wanted to do some adventuring of my own. On the way, I formed close bonds with both Yvenne and Vinny. We became a family!

Yvenne: I really wish you were my brother, Fal. You are just too cute!

Vinny: I'm cuter!

[_Yvenne__glares at him._]

Fal: Um. Right. Well, in the end, I realize that I have to stop worrying everyone and go home. My parents start spending more time with me and well, I go to the Academy! My character is so smart. He's meant to go on to wonderful things.

Yvenne: Just like me! I end up with a dark stranger, who turns out being a whole lot nicer than Vinny ever was, and I get to live in a fantasy world like Enishijirou!

Vinny: And to think, she started out as a high school dropout working as a bookie in a sports bar. In Carthak, no less.

Yvenne: Says the hustler who only had the clothes on his back. I really liked my character. She was independent. She was strong. She took responsibility and she kept reminding Vinny of his.

Vinny: What responsibility? Sorry, babe, but my character didn't _ask_ for two companions and a beat up car. They just fell into my lap.

Fal: I hid in your trunk.

Vinny: Yeah, we know. Just like your dad. In the trunk.

Yvenne: You know what? Let's talk about _your_ character, Vince. Your egotistical, arrogant, selfish character!

Vinny: You forgot intelligent, resourceful, tortured, and dead sexy.

Yvenne: Don't give me that tortured crap! Ooh, look at me! I'm Vinny and I have weird powers and no parents! I think I'll make a martyr of myself and not tell my friends so I can continue to sulk on my own!

Vinny: …

Fal: [_to the audience_] You'll notice how she didn't deny the dead sexy part.

Vinny: [_laughs_] Yeah buddy!

Yvenne: Hmph! Who cares about that? My character ends up with Liam.

Vinny: Yeah! A guy who's old enough to be your father! He won't grow old, Yvenne! Either he turns you into whatever he is or your character eventually gets mistaken for his mother!

[_Yvenne__smacks Vinny on the back of the head. Vinny winces and puts Fal between them. The little boy sighs._]

Fal: In any case, Vinny is reunited with his mother and his father. Separately of course. He endures the mysterious hints from both Enishi and Liam. He is betrayed by Ansil Groten and bumps into his old hospital friends. There is a lot of closure for him here, because he can finally face his past.

Vinny: Yeah. Facing my past. I call it, having-Liam-shoot-them-to-hell. At least your boy toy's good for something, Yvenne.

Yvenne: Whatever.

Fal: Vinny's glad to be reunited with his father. He's been telling himself this whole time that he just wanted answers to his questions. But now that he has a home and family to call his own, that doesn't seem to matter anymore. He finally realizes what he's been missing out on.

Vinny: Yeah. It's called free food and bed. [_is smacked_again] OW! Yvenne, would you stop?

Yvenne: I didn't touch you!

[_From behind the curtain_]: That was me.

[_Joren and Keladry step out, both smirking. Joren claps his son on the shoulder._]

Joren: I can't believe your character grew up without ever getting smacked for that mouth of yours.

Vinny: Yeah, a mouth I inherited from _you._

Joren: Shut up. Go to your room.

Vinny: What?

Yvenne: You heard your dad, Vince! Go to your room!

Vinny: I can't believe this…

[_Vinny, Yvenne, and little Fal head offstage. Joren and Keladry remain. Keladry smiles softly at the audience while Joren wears his signature dark expression._]

Keladry: Nice parenting skills, Joren.

Joren: Whatever.

Keladry: Are we going to talk about our characters or what?

Joren: You can talk. I'll just stand here and ignore the many fangirls undressing me with their eyes.

Keladry: [_chuckles_] Okay. Ahem. Well, I start off as this workaholic who keeps her really deep emotions to herself. She has friends, but she still keeps a good distance from them. She doesn't want to worry them with her problems. Finally, she meets this new partner that really gets under her skin and brings all these emotions to the surface that she thought she would never experience!

Joren: Oh, please. I pissed you off a few times. So what?

Keladry: We were thrust into a mysterious tale of deception and intrigue, running from the law. We _were_ the law! And along the way, we picked up some new friends and enemies… Alliances and friendships were forged… We all cared about each other. Even if _some_ people weren't willing to admit it.

Joren: Who, me? Oh, you. Yeah, that was you.

Keladry: [_rolling her eyes_] We learned a lot about each other. And we eventually came to realize that we depended on each other. We became each other's emotional outlets.

Joren: Translation: we yelled at each other a lot and kissed each other senseless when we felt like screwing with the other's head.

Keladry: I never kissed you to screw with your head!

Joren: Oh, right. I forget that I'm the devious one.

Keladry: You even confided in me about your past. On the Ferris wheel, you showed me a picture of the son you never knew you had.

Joren: Well, it was in the script…

Keladry: [_elbowing him hard_] And you invited me to your trailer after filming was done for the day.

Joren: Keladry Mindelan! There are impressionable youngsters in this room!

Keladry: Argh! Joren, will you help me out already? Talk about yourself! About your character!

Joren: …You catch me in a wet towel.

Keladry: [_blushing_] Not intentionally.

Joren: We fall asleep together in a bath tub?

Keladry: I was a bit tipsy.

Joren: Okay… I bought you a motorcycle. If that doesn't say love, I don't know what does.

Keladry: I'll give you that. But I think everyone wants to hear how you felt about me when we were finally starting to get everything on track! You know, the end of Season 2 all the way until the end of the series.

Joren: [_rubs back of neck nervously_] Okay, so I spent that whole time caring about Kel, but I still had a lot of emotional baggage to sort out. She was there for me, but it wasn't enough. I had to be alone with myself… think about things. And what happens? I go to the mountains, I learn more about my twisted past… I end up in the desert with Enishi… and I get shot _again._

Keladry: How many near death experiences is that now? Four?

Joren: Five. You forget when Neal pushed me down a mountain and I hit my head on a rock. I might never have woken up. Oh, wait. If you count when I fell off the castle battlements during the battle in Enishijirou, you could say six.

Keladry: You're like a roach. After nuclear fallout, you'll still be around.

Joren: And wearing something sexy, don't ever doubt that.

Keladry: The point is… at the series end, we both realize there's no escaping it. I mean, I try for several months to love Ulliver. And I do end up caring about him as much as I did care about Liam at one point. But deep down, my heart knows that it already belongs to Joren.

Joren: What can I say? Animal magnetism.

Keladry: I'd say love.

Joren: I guess. Can we go back to my trailer now?

Keladry: Well…

Joren: What else do you want me to say? Joren Stone loves Keladry Mindelan. There! I said it. We get married, move to your hometown, have kids, get a house… I put up with the normalcy on account of me taking up motorcross again in my spare time… We take in my illegitimate son and we all live happily after! Can we please go to my trailer now?

Keladry: [_smiling_sweetly] Joren Stone loves Keladry Mindelan, huh?

Joren: Damn straight.

Keladry: Hmm… [_loops arm with his_] All right. Let's go, blondie.

[_The couple walks off stage, smiling. The audience applauds and cheers. The author reappears again, trying very hard to keep a straight face, but failing._]

Author: Well! I think that's as close to closure as we're going to get. I must say, I do plan on rewriting ICBW with new names and such so I can finally finish it one day. I also have a few original ideas in the works, one which is currently titled "The Fifth Prince" and will be a quartet of books centering around a ne'er-do-well fifth son and prince named Sion. I probably won't publish any of my large pieces until I'm out of college, so I fear I will lose touch with you all. But know that I'll never forget you! I'll make an appearance every now and then. Look out—you'll never know when I'll actually read a fanfic and review it. Now that I don't have a fanfic schedule to keep, I can take my time writing my new original fiction projects. I can read fanfics again!

Author: I just really want to say… thank you. For your friendship through the years. I appreciate it. My characters appreciate it. We all help one another get along in life. It's a bond a love and trust that will never rust or break. It will be there, always.

Author: This is Sulia Serafine, signing off.

[_The audience applauses. The noise is deafening. The spotlight dims. The curtains close._]

_The End_


End file.
